Food makes people crazy. Our food landscape now is one of extremes: If we’re not eating deep fried butter at a state fair, we’re doing a juice cleanse. If we’re not going vegan, we’re putting pork belly on everything. If we’re not stuffing ourselves with sodium and sugar, we’re on an “80 percent vegetable, no red meat, no fungus diet” like Tom and Gisele.
Bacon is as bad for you as cigarettes! Butter is bad for you! Wait, actually butter is SO good for you that you should be putting it in your coffee! Low fat! No, low glycemic index! Eat more blueberries and you won’t get dementia! Don’t cook with nonstick pans! Don’t store food in plastic! Drink activated charcoal and aloe water and kombucha and, and, and…..
Let’s take a deep breath. Hi.
It’s hard to know what to eat, because it is a constantly shifting landscape and we’re always learning more. I usually think this is pretty cool and exciting, but also it feels like no one–not doctors, not scientists–can ever agree on what the heck we should eat. A lot of food hang ups are, like a lot of human follies, about a struggle for control. When it feels like things are falling apart, it feels comforting to be absolutely tyrannical over at least one single area of your life. When your body or your world betrays you, it feels good to take charge, even if it doesn’t make a lick of difference. (I ran this theory by my best friend, who is a dietitian, and she said, “Um, yeah, that’s the definition of an eating disorder.”)
Food can be a security blanket, a measure of control, a feeling of at least doing something in the face of so much everything. This is a time-honored human impulse, but it’s also one that’s important to interrogate, because it’s a great way to make yourself fucking insane.
I named the site A Peck of Dirt after a saying I heard all the time as a kid, and especially as a teenager, when I worked at a farm stand: You have to eat a peck of dirt before you die. This was usually said over a small child who had just eaten a worm or been fed a mudpie by a malicious older sister (hello!). A little dirt is good for you (it’s science). So is a Diet Coke or a cookie or a glass of wine, if that’s what you really need at the time. I like the saying, its implicit shrugginess, because it means it’s all okay.
On this site, a healthy diet is one that makes you feel good, nourished and happy, a diet that’s actually sustainable with your lifestyle and your budget, and a diet that strives to be a little lighter on the planet. There’s room for vices and vacations and dirt, and not a lot of talk about “cheat days” or cleanses, nor “clean” or “dirty” foods.
While I believe that lots of our health problems come from a diet that’s too high in sugar, too low in fiber, and too short on fruits and vegetables, it’s important for me to state here that I also think antibiotics are possibly man’s greatest creation, that on almost all occasions you should listen to your doctor, and that no matter how much bone broth you drink, a flu shot is still a pretty good idea. I will happily write about forays into crunchy-granola cooking, because I personally love experimenting with it, but I don’t endorse pseudoscience. This is not a “just put some coconut oil on it!” blog and, if you haven’t figured this out by now: I’m not a doctor. I know, I’m pretty disappointed in myself too.
I’m going to write here about my own attempts to find a happy, healthy diet in my own house, along with recipes, one-off tips and tricks, grocery shopping posts, and other stuff I haven’t figured out yet. I’m going to strive to do weekly “meatless Monday” posts, in my continuing quest to eat less meat. And hopefully one day I’ll have some guest posts from actual professionals as opposed to me. I am just a blogger and a home cook with a subscription to Cook’s Illustrated, with a hippie for a mother and a home economics teacher for a grandmother.
All of this is just to say: there’s no manifesto here. Writing and cooking are the two things I like best, so I created a place to do them together. I’d love it if you joined me.
A Peck of Dirt 