As I’ve mentioned previously, we’re trying to eat healthier here at the Modern manse. One reason for this is pure (if tautological) common sense; healthy foods are healthier than unhealthy foods. Unprocessed foods are, in the main, better than processed foods, satisfying as those processed foods may be. We’re not being fanatically zealous in our commitment, but the balance of items in our grocery cart has definitely tipped heavily in favor of the foods on the perimeter, rather than the center, of the market.
Another reason is that eating better helps support other lifestyle changes. I’ve been trying to get more exercise lately, both for the baseline benefits of exercise, but also because increasing my activity level supports my goal of droping a few (dozen) pounds over a reasonable period of time.
So, part of our recent commitment to better eating has involved eating better. That is, our desire to eat fresher, healthier, less processed foods has also resulted in our eating food that tastes better. It has also led me to do more actual cooking, using recipes that actually take time, thought, and effort to prepare.
Sometimes, all our schedule really allows for is throwing together a meal that is quick and nutritious. There’s nothing wrong with a simple meal of baked chicken, roasted potatoes (or rice, or some equally nutritive but uninspiring starch) and steamed broccoli. It’s healthy and balanced, if entirely unimaginative. Recently, I took the opportunity to stray off the path of convenience. The other night, I made a roast chicken (okay, so I stayed in chicken territory, which I’ll admit isn’t exactly walking on the wild side, but it takes a bit more effort than just opening the package of chicken parts and throwing them on the baking sheet) with a cornbread stuffing (thanks, Chris Kimball). Roast chicken is still a pretty simple dish, but throwing a bunch of aromatics into the roasting pan (apple, lemon, onion) gives the meat a really nice flavor, with the added bonus of roasted onions as a side dish.
Making the stuffing required bacon, which lead to leftover bacon. Leftover bacon became the impetus for making a coq au vin the following night. Again, this is hardly the most complicated meal in the world — the greatest investment lies not in ingredients, or culinary skill, but in time — but the result is rich, and flavorful, the sort of meal that leaves you looking for one more piece of crusty bread to mop up the last of the sauce.
Indeed, the only problem with indulging in my love of cooking is that it makes me want to (over)indulge in my love of eating. With baked chicken and rice, there’s not much of a desire for seconds, or a need to exercise moderation. Coq au vin on the other hand, requires one to summon some restraint.
But. Just because I’m trying to eat better, exercise more, and, ultimately, weigh less as a the result of making changes to established habits and behaviors (replacing them, over time, with different habits and behavioral patterns that are both healthy and sustainable) doesn’t mean I want to stop finding pleasure in good food. The trick, I think, is to stop conflating that pleasure with moral judgements, stop framing enjoyment of a good meal with sin, and exercise with expiation.
Coq au vin (or Spaghetti alla Carbonara, or whatever your favorite indulgence happens to be) is something to be enjoyed, not something to atone for. Thinking about this or that dinner in terms of the amount of time one has to spend working off, or paying back, the calories, is entirely the wrong mindset for sustainable change. The goal should be to have diet (in the sense of what one puts in one’s body, rather than in the sense of a branded Diet Program [tm] complete with books and prepackaged meals, television exposure and celebrity advocates, seasoned with just the slightest hint of snake oil) and exercise balance each other out as part of a healthy lifestyle. In that way, the occasional indulgence can be seen (as it should be seen) as a source of pleasure.
A good meal should not be viewed as a debt to be paid off in sweat, but a credit redeemed by dutifully eating all that @#$%ing baked chicken the rest of the time.
