“I have a dinner meeting Thursday night,” says hubby.
“PAR-TAY! We are going to have pizza, spaghetti and hamburgers for dinner and teeny, tiny salads.” I respond back. We rarely eat anything kid-friendly. Our salads are dad-made and huge, bottomless per the boys.
He laughed at my food choices, things he would never eat. I did too. My laugh turned into a slow smile. I realized I could make it happen: Eat processed, carb-filled foods and red meat for dinner! The boys would love it and me! I was going to make this better than pizza or spaghetti, really special.
I deemed the upcoming Thursday, “Toxic Thursday.” Even hubby was curious what we would eat while his back was turned. Hubby is also known as Organic Man, cleaning our pantry out of every toxin disguised as food, down to the baking powder. His cycling figure is always weighing on his mind, hence the big salads. I’m thinner and healthier because of his regimen so I can’t complain.
I deferred to the boys for first crack at our GMO and fat-filled meal.
“I don’t have to work on Thursday so I can drive around and get toxic stuff for dinner. What do you want to eat? Dad’s gone!!!!” I say with a grin and raised eyebrows.
Bogged down by homework and sports schedules, neither of them had any ideas. I came up with the menu:
Steak, extra thick. Red meat is rare in our house, as in we don’t eat much of it. I asked the butcher what he likes since I don’t buy steaks very often. I told him I had to teenage boys so I probably needed a lot. He picked two thick rib eyes, room for grilling error if I forgot to take them off in time. He suggested a little garlic, salt and pepper.
“Perfection!” exclaims the butcher; he could just taste our dinner too.
Baked Potatoes with green onions, sour cream for the cow friendly and goat cheese chedder for the non-cow friendly. Out of habit I still bought organic potatoes and green onions; they taste better. We’ve been conditioned.
Small Simple Salad: organic romaine with walnuts, sliced apple and dried cherries with apple vinaigrette. Our kids say hubby’s salads are bottomless. He makes 2-inch deep salads and I buy two-inch thick steaks. (Ok, maybe one-inch thick steaks.)
Smuckers Boysenberry Syrup over pancakes for dessert.
Sour Cream and Onion potato chips for a snack. Hubby circles all the bad ingredients on chips with a Sharpie. Lay on the guilt of Lay’s potato chips. Yeast Extract and Isolated Soy Protein are AKA: MSG. Tricky!
I pick up my swimmer at 6:15. He’s ready for me to drive him to Panda Express for dinner. WHAT?!?
“I got steaks for dinner,” I say.
“WHAT?!? You said you could drive us around. Steak is normal food not toxic.”
“I meant drive around well-before dinner, say when you are at school. We do not eat CORN-FED beef on a regular basis. I spent FORTY BUCKS on those fat steaks!” Suddenly my Toxic Thursday idea was not in the food but the air.
“My childhood is shrinking! I can’t eat anything fun!” cries my youngest, starving, exhausted and apparently deprived teenager.
I suggest he call his older brother who was out getting real Chinese food, without MSG, at a real Chinese restaurant for his Mandarin class the next day. Maybe he could swing by Panda for the toxic stuff.
It was too late.
Toxins continued to fill the air not our stomachs. My oldest son avoided the dark cloud enshrouding his mom and younger brother. He was happy to eat anything. He eyed the baked potatoes, envisioning all the additives to make them more delicious like bacon, extra cheese, butter and sour cream.
Alas, the brooding subsided as there was nothing else to eat but the perfectly grilled corn-fed steak, fattening baked potatoes dripping with goat cheese or sour cream, skinny salads and pancake dessert.
The toxic winner: Smuckers Boysenberry syrup drizzled over pancakes. Dang! Boysenberry syrup is still as good as I remember from the 70s when I was fourteen and ate toxic food all the time; I was happy then, spoiled too evidently.Share on Facebook