We Are What We Eat?

Life – Terror. Ecstasy. Fight. Denial. Flight. Failure. PAIN. Forgiveness. Reconciliation. Hope. Love. Peace – Death.

Food

I love it.

A good meal, bottle of wine, home cooked or restaurant, here or abroad, old tastes, new tastes, I don’t care, I love food.

This was not always the case.

It wasn’t until I met Gail and we began to travel (aged 18) that I realised how good food is and how much I loved it.

I was not excited by food growing up.

I was a terrible fussy eater and Mum was a poor cook. To be fair to her, much of the time she was ill, unavailable to cook or to make sure I ate. I would regularly remove food from my plate in my trouser pockets and dispose of it in the (outside) toilet.

I existed on milk, basic cereals, tinned (HP) beans on toast, instant mash potatoes (on special occasions, Christmas etc.), tinned corned-beef, biscuits – digestive, ginger, NICE, occasionally, Club biscuits. I did not drink tea or coffee, an occasional mug of ‘oxo’, cordials. and milk. Milk, plenty of milk.  

I cannot remember eating any fresh (or otherwise) vegetables, only tinned, processed peas. We never had lemonade or crisps, except when mum remembered to bring them from the pub. I would not eat roast Sunday roast, with the family. One of my biggest regrets, I never ate a roast dinner until aged seventeen.

I did like scouse.

Dads scouse with a neck of lamb.

Christmas dinner for me – slices of turkey, tinned processed, marrowfat peas and Cadburys  Smash instant potato-mash.   

From around aged seven, for supper, I would eat English mustard (and piccalilli) butties or cheese and crackers. When older crumpets and or toast with Bovril (that I bought specifically for myself). I developed a fetish for oxo (beef) stock cubes, I would eat them like sweets. I could buy them from a local sweet-grocery shop individually and I would, regularly. They would be hidden from me as otherwise I would find and eat them, at time so many, making myself ill. 

I remember eating some fresh fruit; peaches, strawberry’s, cherries, plums and tinned mandarin oranges & pears and many many tangerines at Christmas. We would eat fish at least once per week, those days fish was not as expensive as meat. I liked fish, yellow fish and some white fish, I loved cockles, fresh or pickled and also ‘salt-fish’ butty’s for Sunday breakfast with dad and Carol.

When older I/we ate a lot of red meat, eggs, always awful chips (mum was shit at chips), very few veg. Dad worked in the food haulage industry, refrigerated transport of meat. We ate a lot of lamb & pork chops, cheap steak and sausages. All our food had tons of added salt.

That is what I knew?

You ate meat with salt on it.

Dad liked salt.

I liked salt?

My diet was a disaster. I was a dietary nightmare, I wonder what impact my diet has on my health now? I do wonder if ‘what I ate’ growing up is why I’m so fucking healthy now?

We are what we eat?

Food. Health. Life.

Thanks for reading

Peace

Published by Riff

Husband to my inspirational, (long suffering) wife, father of two amazing (adult) children, teacher, former guitarist (now guitar owner), recent 'granda(r) to my beautiful grandson who I am yet to meet. I Love people. I love my family, my friends, I love(d) what I do (my Job), I love Music, Cars, Everton .... I love many things, most of all I fucking love 'life'.

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