THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, October 20, 1995 TAG: 9510190183
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 07 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Over Easy
SOURCE: Jo-Ann Clegg
LENGTH: Medium: 82 lines
I like to cook healthy.
When I fixed a crock pot full of stew for a recent family gathering, I cut the beef myself from an inexpensive but very lean roast, trimming every shred of visible fat as I went.
Then I looked over the rest of the pieces and tossed those that were nicely marbled with fat to my four-footed garbage disposal who assures me he has no cholesterol problem.
``I'm a born carnivore,'' Charlie the Lhasa assured me. ``We flesh-eaters need that stuff to survive.''
Maybe that's true, maybe it isn't. The point is that no human is supposed to eat what used to be considered the most desirable part of the meat.
What resulted from my dedication to healthy eating was a dietetically correct but very boring stew that I topped off with dumplings made from reduced fat biscuit mix.
Such is life these days, especially for those of the middle years and beyond.
At least the seven of us who sat down to dinner could all dip our portions from the same stew pot. That's more than I can say for what happened when we got to dessert.
Maybe I should take a moment here to explain who those seven were. First there was Bill's mother, whose weight, cholesterol and blood sugar levels allow her to eat as much of whatever she wants, whenever she wants to.
Then there were Bill and my cousin Myrtle. They watch their fat intake carefully but refuse to allow anything with artificial sweetener to pass their lips.
After that came my cousin Bebe and me. We both prefer the fat reduced and the sugar nonexistent.
That brings us to my mother and my cousin Charline who, for health reasons, must avoid both fat and sugar. Let's just refer to them as the Fat-and-Sugar-Free-Twins.
The dessert of choice was ice cream, the number of cartons required to satisfy everybody should have been four. It wasn't. Flavor preferences brought it to six.
For Bill's mother, there was double chocolate chunky monkey fudge, straight up and loaded.
For Bill there was fat-free, normal sugar in his favorite gourmet flavor - vanilla. When it comes to ice cream, the man has no imagination at all, but I love him anyway.
For Myrtle, a Canadian who comes to Virginia each fall to satisfy her desire for everything pecan, there was no-fat-added double pecan.
Bebe and I agreed on no-sugar added, reduced fat rocky road.
My mother's fat-free, sugar-free ice cream of choice was coffee-chocolate chip; Charline's was raspberry ripple.
That's six kinds of ice cream for seven people.
And then there were the beverages to go with them: regular coffee for Bill's mother, regular tea for Bill, decaf coffee for Myrtle and decaf tea for my mother and Charline.
Bebe and I both had herb tea. Let's make this too simple here. Hers was lemon, mine was blackberry.
That's six more packages to haul out, six separate beverages to fix. It took half an hour just to jam all the ice cream cartons back into the refrigerator and replace the coffee and tea canisters.
I fell into bed exhausted, then got up the next morning to fix breakfast for Bill, Charlie and me.
Pancakes, I cooked. Nice, healthy, reduced-fat pancakes.
``We're out of syrup,'' Bill called from across the kitchen just as I started stacking flap jacks on his plate.
``You've got four bottles right there on the counter,'' I told him. ``Yes,'' he said, ``but one has artificial sweetener, one has full fat, one has reduced fat and I don't like the flavor of the other one. Where's that bottle of all-fruit stuff?''
I didn't answer him. I put down the spatula, picked up the car keys, walked out the door and drove to McDonald's.
Where I ordered a Big Breakfast with extra sausage and fried potatoes and an extra large cup of real coffee.
I figure I can get sick from unhealthy eating habits or I can get sick from the stress of trying to meet everybody else's dietary needs. by CNB