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Eating well used to mean one thing to me: experiencing an abundant meal of lavish, often expensive or esoteric foods.
Over the years, that definition has changed, if not evolved.
Yes, eating well still can describe a grand feast of luxurious foodstuffs, such as caviar, lobster and Kobe-style beef, served with great wines or vintage Champagne. But a career spent cooking, eating and reflecting has broadened my idea of what constitutes a great meal.
Now I am more likely to consider a salad cobbled together with ingredients from the farmers market a treat. After all, what are a box of freshly shelled English peas, a carton of just-harvested cherry tomatoes and a wedge of cheese made by the person selling it if they aren't the flavor-packed components of an ideal summer repast?
Eating well, in the current culinary perspective, is eating handmade foods or ingredients nurtured on a small farm, which can be costly, but certainly isn't as prohibitive as lobster and bubbly for eight. Even this definition, however, has its limitations.
For months, my constant refrain in response to queries about how my pregnancy is progressing has been: "My baby certainly eats well." Indeed, I have been thoughtful about what foods I consume, avoiding most of the standard no-nos: alcohol, moldy cheeses, raw or rare meats and seafood.
I also avoid "junk" and try to load up on fresh fruits, vegetables and as diverse a selection of foods as possible. My one vice, if you can call it that, is ice cream. Darn those uncontrollable cravings.
I believe what I really mean when I say that my baby eats well is that she's getting three, sometimes four, squares a day. Before her existence, it wouldn't have been unusual for me to skip a meal if I was too busy or lazy to get something to eat. That's not an option when you're growing another life.
I often remind myself how fortunate I am to be able to provide that kind of nourishment. I wonder about the women who are unaware of or unable to receive proper prenatal care and education. How well are their babies eating?
What also gives me pause is knowing there are children who depend on school lunches to get a decent meal.
A few years ago, I wrote about the then new central kitchen for Seattle Public Schools. During my research, I learned that some elementary schools in less-wealthy neighborhoods often have the added responsibility of being the only source of complete meals for countless students whose families can't afford to feed them.
School lunches are the butt of jokes, but, in this case, they fill perpetually growling bellies.
I've never been trapped in that cave of hunger and I can't pretend to know that experience.
When my father was alive, he'd sometimes sum up the tough times he had by sharing this one anecdote: Shortly before he, my mom, my brother and I left Taiwan, his older brother proposed that everyone go out for dinner. "Let's eat a bao fan," he said. Essentially, he wanted this goodbye meal to be one that was actually filling.
Sometimes, eating well simply means eating, period.
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