230706 the chocolate stash

 July 6, 23

The stash.

I have a chocolate stash. I have had one for thirty-two years. When the children were little it was hidden, but once they became adults I moved it to a known location and it was available for everyone. It was understood however that it must not be allowed to get low, so I was to be notified when it was getting so. There have been other favorite treats that also had to be reported or replaced when they were low, because it was important to me to have them available at all times. (For instance, chocolate stick ice cream, a Loblaws'  PC brand of ice cream whose real name I don't remember but is white ice cream with sticks of dark chocolate in it.) 

The inception of the chocolate stash is a chapter in my food journey. I am sure that we all, at some time in our lives, have dealt with food restrictions. It might be a diet to lose weight, or to help with our health, or for money reasons. I remember clearly the food restrictions of my childhood. We were five children and my parents had grown up in the depression and the war. They were very budget-conscious, and in addition,  my mother was careful to feed us healthy food. On both counts then, treats and junk food were off the table (literally!). We never ordered pizza or went out for dinner. We would see a take-out hamburger and fries once a year, during our family vacation, ditto ice cream cones, maybe two or three per vacation. We had pop, soft drinks that is, at the cottage on a Saturday night. We chose which one carefully because it would be one of perhaps two that we'd see in a year. The resort sold cold soft drinks and I remember choosing carefully between my favorites, grape crush, cream soda, and chocolate soldier, before one of us ran down for a six-pack. Does anyone remember chocolate soldier? I most often settled on grape or cream soda. I still love cream soda, though I seldom drink any pop now. By choice, that is, since that is where I am on my journey. I do continue to have a stash of one coke (the real thing) in the house at all times, though it might not be drunk for months. 

Oranges were up there on the ration list, they were probably expensive, and likely considered by my parents to be exotic. I should explain, although this may have been and may still be the case in most homes, that my mother shopped for groceries once a week. She planned the week's menus around what was on offer at the store, and there was enough for meals, with very little extra to be had. If we were hungry between meals she would say, "If you are hungry you'll have a piece of bread and butter." There was no snacking, no snack foods at all. Not a potato chip in sight. She did make us popcorn now and then. She also made dessert almost daily; apple crisp, raisin pudding, apple dumpling, rice pudding and they were invariably delicious. Now and then she bought a pint of ice cream, in the cardboard wrapper, do you remember? It was carefully sliced into equal portions. We saw chocolate at Christmas, Easter and Halloween. We used to joke that there was one second helping at dinner and the first one finished their first got the second one! 

I could do without my orange, because I have never been keen on fruit, but bacon! Three slices apiece was the bacon ration. I expect we had it once a week. But I might have several pieces of fried bread if I wished! This was an amazing treat that I doubt anyone now eats, if they did have it as children. Mom fried bread in the bacon drippings. For a family that ate no junk food to speak of, I don't think our health suffered from what sounds like unhealthy food by today's standards! My mother made all our food from scratch, little processed or prepackaged products were to be seen. 

On the subject of fruit: I was encouraged, almost forced, to eat some fruit. I liked peaches, which we saw in season, and had canned quite often the rest of the year. I would not eat a banana. I found, and still find many fruits "sour". I also have a big issue around texture, and I require all fruit to be "prepared"; even an apple must be cut up. The sourness is strange. I will ask my table mates, "Do these taste sour to you?" to which they will say, no, they are sweet! It is a property of most fruit, that it makes me wince with a sourness that I taste, even an apple which is not usually sour to begin with. I finally labeled this property that I am sensitive to, "wertzel", which many people don't seem to notice! I have not discussed it with many others, and have never heard something like it referred to, so I don't know if it has a name or even what it is, but it makes me screw up my face, like someone biting into a lemon. I used to force myself to eat fruit, though never bananas, because they are supposed to be an important part of one's diet, until I decided, a few years ago, that I would give it up for good. Why not? I am a grown-up and allowed to eat or not eat whatever I want. When I shared my decision with my daughter, Elf, she said, "Fruit's nasty."! I forget if I asked her about wertzel, but I just loved that she could declare such a statement so confidently! Interestingly, only a few months after I allowed myself this decision, I began to be drawn to fruit. I started with some that have no wertzel, cantaloupe, pears, and even bananas, though they all, including the bananas, must be sliced up or otherwise prepared, before coming to table. Clementines, though they belong to a very wertzely family, I find quite sweet and usually safe. I now enjoy or, sometimes, at least choke down, because I consider them important, many fruits. Still not always a huge fan, obviously! Strawberries, even in season, must be sweetened with maple syrup, likewise blueberries. I can eat a dozen grapes before the wertzel kicks in and I must stop. If fruit is cooked the wertzel seems to dissipate, so I can enjoy it cooked. (Of course one often cooks fruit with sugar!) Raisins, dried apricots and other dried fruit, have zero wertzel; it must be lost in the drying. I eat fruit for health, ten fruits and veg a day being a goal at which we aim. I include tomatoes as a fruit, to help cover my bases!

Back to the chocolate stash: after I became an adult, I continued to live with food rules, except for those few years of life as a carefree young adult that most of us pass through. I rationed my junk food intake, and once I had children, healthy food was an issue. I also was full-bodied, or plump, (as I prefer to say) after having the kids. I went to Weight Watchers after my second and returned to my slim pre-pregnancy weight - a big-time food rule period. I continually beat (past tense) myself up for not enough vegetables and fruit; I rationed treats, chocolate, ice cream and chips. Then, thirty-two years ago, my mother died. I took it very hard, as I suppose most of us do. One revelation happened at that time. In my bereavement, and perhaps because my food-rule predisposition was somehow linked to my mother, I decided to throw out all food rules. I was back up to my higher weight, having just had my third baby. Accepting myself as I was brought a refreshing contentment to my life. I did not gain more weight, even though I ate whatever I wanted. I expect my body was telling me when I had had enough to maintain where I was. I brought home anything I fancied. Salt and vinegar chips, my preferred favorite, were always in the house. Cookies, available to all, were in the house, though I did try to keep the children to one or two! I felt that if I was allowed to eat something then so were they. Ice cream, ice cream sandwiches, ice cream bars on a stick, were always in the freezer. I allowed myself as much bacon as I liked. And of course, chocolate. I let myself eat all the chocolate I wanted, when and how much! The chocolate "stash" was born, because I did wish to restrict the children's diets to some extent. For the rest, I did think that if foods were not too restricted, that they would learn moderation. I probably created in them a whole new bunch of "food rules" to deal with in their adult lives! At first, the pleasure of eating several bars of chocolate at a sitting, once a guilty and restricted treat, was refreshing and enjoyable! Before long, I cut down the frequency and quantity a lot! It was a surprise to find that once something was off the guilt wagon and allowed to be part of every day, my need for it was brought into perspective in my diet. The same applied to chips and other salty favorites, and ice cream. Bacon not so much! I now seldom prepare it, but I still eat a lot when I do!

It was several years ago that I somehow lost my "sweet tooth" and seldom have sweet treats of any sort; if I do, a small bite serves me. It was also several years ago that I began to take caffeine in any form only before noon, because, even though I seemed to sleep well, I fancied that it interfered with my nights. As a result, I stopped eating chocolate, because it is seldom part of a morning's intake! My chocolate stash is mostly depleted by others. I have a little, now and then. Almost the day after I decided that salads were too much work to eat and not wonderful, and gave them up, I began to prepare and enjoy them as never before! We have a salad of dark greens and other vegetables almost every day. For dressing, which used to be a down-side of salad: a ridiculous waste of calories, I now serve a cider vinegar and maple syrup dressing with no oil, only salt and pepper and a dash of cayenne. It is delicious and refreshing. These dietary changes were not a big challenge and seemed to happen of themselves. Small changes, like my decision to increase my fibre intake, which led to eating more beans, have taken me to the diet path we are now on. 

We are all on lifestyle journeys; exercise, food, education, interests. It is important to see our personal growth in this light. We need not all follow the same paths, we are who we are. Although I would wish everyone to eat healthily, I respect where they are on their journey, and their destination may be different from mine, by choice or pathway. My diet, using the word in its open sense as "what one eats", is not where I want it to be yet. That's okay. I am still getting there. 

Walk your path. 

Mumma Yaga