It first happened about six months ago. After eating an entire container of homemade French onion dip with potato chips I ended up spending the better part of the following day in the bathroom. My stomach was sore, and my wife had banished me to the couch until further notice until the problem had rectified itself. I often preach about quality food products, and not settling for less. But, for me, French onion dip is best when it is homemade, as most things are.
Indeed, combining a container of sour cream with a packet of dried French onion soup mix evolves into something rather remarkable. Mind you,the flavor intensity is not for everyone. What many prefer in the form of pre-made supermarket quality dip ends up tasting more like garlic rather than onion. A beer, a tub of dip and the chips made perfect accompaniment for Internet surfing and watching movies on Netflix. But as addicting as the dip is and my passion so strong for bold flavors, my body suffered the consequences.
And then reality sunk in. I'm not 20 anymore. Or 22...or even 25. Looking at 30 and realizing the human body can only take so much abuse is a sobering experience. People have ended their lives over such reality checks. But within 24 hours my body no longer smelled of rancid garbage, and my stomach had settled. What's more, I was allowed back into the bedroom. My body just can't digest milk fat and/or protein like I could in my youth.
But within a few weeks I did it all again. Granted, I have instituted strict moderation in the amount I consume, but nonetheless I find myself in an almost ritualistic manner making homemade French onion dip on a routine basis. One packet of soup mix with one medium sized container of sour cream. Mix thoroughly in the original container, cover and let sit in the fridge overnight is best. But I often mix it, let it sit in the fridge while I put away the rest of the groceries, and then I attack it with earnest.
For a period of time I had a fascination with processed cheese products such as Velveeta and Cheez Whiz. Kraft makes some very good, yet very evil things. The latter fits that to perfection. Cheez Whiz melted on a burger is immaculate. Melting Velveeta with macaroni or pasta shells and adding tuna is a bachelor's dream come true. It's still a dream come true after being with my wife for almost 10 years. Cheez Whiz or Velveeta melted with Ro-Tel canned tomatoes and chiles or your favorite salsa is heaven on tortilla chips. Velveeta with minute rice, ground beef, onion, tomato paste and tomato sauce baked is a curious little dish called country pie was a staple in my house when growing up.
But then people tried messing with the recipe. The flavors are not as good as they used to be, and reduced fat or fat free versions fail to compare. When those experiments fail, we go back to the originals or we learn to deal with mediocrity and disappointment. If we refuse to settle for less, we're told by so-called medical experts that eating such products can cause health problems, such as the glorious heart attack. In fact, most of what you buy in a grocery store that isn't from the produce aisle will eventually kill you in one way or another. Just wait for it.
So, what am I doing right now? I just finished eating Cheez Whiz spread on a piece of wheat bread. I could've been worse. I could've put it on white bread. Maybe I can feel better about myself if next time I put it on artisan bread. And the next time I make French onion dip (which will probably be sometime this weekend), I can feel better about myself if I use organic potato chips with sea salt instead of regular potato chips.
It's like the half regular Coke, half diet Coke theory. In the end, we're all going to die. It just depends on whether you want to do from eating stuff that's bad for you but tastes good, or stuff that's bad for you and tastes horrible. I choose the former. It's my firm believe that it's not simply the food we eat, but coupled with the ever increasing sedentary lifestyle of people. We are not predominantly agrarian as we once were, toiling all day clearing the prairies. Instead of being utilized, fats are now deposited since the body doesn't have anywhere else to put it. Rather than the food killing us, it is still a matter of one's choice that is the root of the problem.
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