Fridge, I love thee

Oh, Fridge. I've always taken you for granted. I've used you many times a day, without ever really thinking of your worth. I've covered you in tacky magnets, without taking a moment to gaze upon you with appreciation. I've even felt the rage at you, when you've made weird humming noises in the middle of night when I've been desperate for sleep after a midnight feed. 

Now, I know you might be confused by my sudden adoration. You might even ask yourself what you've done differently today. Surely, you wonder, haven't I just stood in the corner minding my own business like usual? No, you haven't done anything differently. I've just read the section of Modern Mothercraft about how to keep milk cool.

According to Modern Mothercraft, milk can be kept cool by cutting a kerosene tin in half. Then, "in this place an unglazed brick with sufficient cold water to cover it." The last step is to put the tin in a cold place, and place the milk jug inside. If it can't be put in a cold place, the book suggests under a tree outside.

Fridge, I am so glad I have you. If it wasn't for you, I would be trying to source a kerosene tin, then figuring out how to cut it in half. How does one even cut a tin in half? I don't even know that, such is my uselessness. Let alone trying to find out what an unglazed brick is. I'm hoping that the red squiggly 'this is a spelling mistake' line that appears underneath 'unglazed' every time I type it means that the word is now so dated, I shouldn't be ashamed of not knowing what it is.

Fridge, I promise to appreciate you from now on. I'm so glad to have you in my life, unlike the poor women in 1945. Otherwise my milk would always be warm. As would my Coke Zero, which you know I open you much more often for. And that, would quite simply, be unbearable.

12 days sugar free! (And why I'm keeping it a secret)

I am now 12 days sugar free. Woop!

It's not been easy. In fact, some days it's been really tough, and I have felt like a rage beast. But, I am getting there slowly and surely. Irrational rage and cravings aside, I do feel better. Every single day I find myself in at least 2 situations when 2015 me would have reached for the sugar-laden goodness, and every day it's hard to get through that moment. But, nothing beats ending another day with the thought "I did it!" 

I also feel smug and proud that I have lasted this long, although of course I keep that to myself. In fact, apart from a few people in real life I've decided to keep this sugar-free malarkey a secret. Why?

First, no-one likes hanging out with that person who says "oh no I am on a diet" when they are about to eat a giant slice of cake. I don't want to kill anyone else's buzz: this is for me, not them. I also don't want to look like a crazy faddish dieting person, the "new year new me!" cliche. The fact I probably am a crazy faddish person by doing this is besides the point. I also don't want raised eyebrows when I start eating sugar again. Of course, one day I will. In fact, that day may be sooner rather than later. I just want to be more moderate when I re-introduce sugary foods, and hope that the pavlova habit has fallen by the wayside. Not to mention the dreams about pavlova. 

It's surprisingly easy to fudge not eating sugar. I may be the centre of my own world, but other people don't seem to notice. A simple "no, thanks" when offered food is enough. No-one says "why?" and I've only been in one situation when someone else has put pressure on me to eat (delicious looking) cake.  This particular person is someone who, I suspect, feels less guilty about their own eating when they see others eating badly themselves. I just had to be a little firmer, ignore my watering mouth, and change the subject.

So, 12 days down ... here's to at least 12 days more! 

On "dumpster diving" and food waste

Hungry and in need of a bite? A peruse through your cupboards shows them to be as empty as Old Mother Hubbard's.  Do you:

A: Go to the supermarket?

B: Pop online and do an online shop? Or

C: Go out to the local shops in the dead of the night and rummage around in the dumpsters until you find a tasty morsel?

Turns out, if you answer "C" to that question, you are doing a fascinating new thing I heard about on the radio last week, dumpster diving. Now, my first thought when I heard about this wasn't exactly unbridled enthusiasm at the idea of a new hobby. Quite the opposite, in fact. I wanted to dry-retch when my own rubbish spilled all over the kitchen floor after a bag malfunction the other week, and at least that rubbish was mine and only from the last three days. The idea of sifting through someone else's dustbin and eating - EATING! - food found within turns my stomach, Finding a step by step guide to dumpster diving didn't have me rushing toward the nearest dumpster either, especially the warning that dumpsters are dirty and can spread diseases, and that if you get trapped in a rubbish truck you are likely to get crushed.

But, according to Dr Giles, the anthropologist who introduced me to the concept of dumpster diving, we in the West waste an awful lot of food. Apparently over 50% of food produced in the USA isn't eaten; I've no idea about the stats about that here, but imagine it's not great here either. It's not just people like me throwing out fruit and veges I bought but never got around to cooking, either. It's bakeries, supermarkets and restaurants throwing out food that isn't perfectly fresh. Or, in the case of produce, it isn't aesthetically pleasing. Supermarkets don't like selling ugly apples, regardless of how they might taste. Dumpster divers aren't chowing down on bread crusts and apple cores. After doing research and locating the right dumpster, they're eating packaged food that's come right of the shelf and only a day old. and food that's actually ok to eat. Assuming, of course, something minging didn't have to be peeled off it first. 

When Modern Mothercraft was published, most people didn't have fridges. It notes that milk can be kept cool by cutting a kerosene tin in half, then "in this place an unglazed brick with sufficient cold water to cover it." The last step is to put the tin in a cold place, and place the milk jug inside. Due to this lack of a fridge, my grandmother probably had a much better sense than me about when food was actually off as well. Besides, her generation had lived through World War Two and the Depression. I don't imagine they would have snubbed an apple because it was a weird shape. Or, not bought bread because the best before date was in two day's time: old bread could be used for bread pudding, or croutons. I found myself nodding along as Dr Giles talked about how my generation are so used to food being fresh, we don't know when food ceases to be edible, so err on the side of caution and usually chuck it out. It's a strange paradox that because we have fridges to keep food fresher, we are more likely to throw good food away. This is probably compounded by confusion about the difference between 'used by' and 'best before dates', and many people not realizing that most foods are still fine after their best before date. 

I don't have any answers for this.  I don't want to go to a restaurant and be served yesterday's chicken, or food that has been scraped from someone else's plate. And I am certainly not planning on dressing like a stealth ninja and go foraging around the dumpsters behind the local supermarket in search of sandwiches that expired yesterday and apples that look like buttocks. On the other hand, I don't like the idea of all of this waste, either. So, maybe I will just be a bit more careful when buying food in the future, and try and throw less out. That way, hopefully, I'll at least raise my children with at least a semblance of appreciation for how lucky they are to live in an age where throwing food out is an option at all. 

My top tips on how not to become egg-shaped this Easter

I saw my first Easter egg in the supermarket in late January. Ever since then, it's been a long running battle of the wills not to eat my body weight in chocolate by the time Easter Sunday is done and dusted. Most years, the chocolate goodness wins this battle, but this year I am determined to be the victor. 

It's getting harder; as Easter approaches, the pile of brightly-wrapped eggs in the supermarket has morphed from ant-hill sized to one more closely resembling K2. And not only does the pile grow in size, but as each day passes it seems to move even closer to the shop's door. At this rate, we'll soon need crampons to scale the pile of deliciousness. So, this year, I decided I needed a plan, albeit a plan I knew I would probably ignore.  But, humour me.  Here it is, my top tips to not becoming egg-shaped this Easter:

1. Leave your wallet at home when going shopping. This means you won't be able to buy any chocolate eggs. True, you also won't be able to buy the essentials like milk, bread and real eggs, but at least you'll be chocolate-free.

2. Google photos of people with rotten teeth. You know the photos, the type that dentists use to frighten you into brushing and flossing.  Look at the photos when tempted to eat anything sweet. To be honest I haven't actually done this myself as I don't fancy it, but I imagine it would be effective. 

3. Remind yourself that your children really should eat less sugar. This one does work for me, to a certain extent. It certainly does help me give less sugar to my toddler as I don't want it to be his teeth that may be used for the purposes noted in point two above.  Stopping me from eating chocolate when away from his all-seeing beady toddler eyes is another story, however ... 

4. Invite someone to your Easter-egg hunt that is really good at hiding eggs. Like my Mum. One year, she hid my eggs on the roof. In a drain. I was still looking for my special treats long after all my younger siblings were charging around the back yard on their delightful sugar-highs. If you can't find the eggs, they can't be eaten. Or, if you do eventually find them, they may be so yucky from sitting in the drain on the roof that you don't want them anyway. 

5. Don't buy the kids their special eggs too early, or else they may be eaten, then have to be re-bought. Then eaten. Then re-bought. 

On "artificial feeding" for your baby and being more than a bit useless

Mothercraft, like most modern publications, promotes breast feeding, especially in silence to enhance milk flow. It also sensibly notes that not all women can breast feed for various reasons, and includes a chapter on "artificial feeding". Given this was written in pre-formula days, I found this chapter quite interesting. And very pleased that I live in an era when preparing formula is as easy as it is. And slightly ashamed that I haven't used all that time freed up by formula's invention to do something noble and good. But I digress.

My toddler had formula from about seven months, and my baby has had it a few times now as a top-up. It's easy-peasy really, especially when you no longer need to sterilize. Open tin. Scoop powder. Put in bottle filled with water. Shake. Give to eager child. The only part with potential problems or effort for me is if the top isn't on properly before the shaking, resulting in extra mess, washing and swear words.

In 1945, though, it looks much harder. First, this is what you need:

"That Lollie Curse"

"The perpetual sweet-eating habit practiced ... is so harmful to them that parents should adopt the 'out of sight out of mind' policy as far as lollies and chocolates are concerned." The book then goes on to say that a barleysugar or boiled sweet is fine occasionally, but toffees and other "sticky jawy" things should never be eaten.

My first thought when reading this (once my guilt at giving my son the odd sweet treat and enabling his current addiction to peanut butter and honey sandwiches subsided) was: where do gummy lollies sit in the hierarchy of evil sweets? You know the kind, the delicious lollies that are usually brightly coloured and shaped like non-sweet things. Like, fried eggs. Or worms. Or teeth, in some sort of perverse homage to the thing that the treats are rotting.

I've heard before that gummy lollies are worse than chocolate because the gummy bits stick between teeth. I tried to find out via Google, but was so overwhelmed by photos of the lollies I got distracted. Although I did find an interesting study claiming that Gummi Bears were good for tooth decay.

I suppose that like in 1945, it's better not to succumb to "that lollie curse" and give children any lollies at all, gummy or not. If I do though I'll certainly follow Modern Mothercraft's advice and stay away from "sticky jawy" things. Not only are they terrible for teeth, but you don't see them in shops much anyway. So, that's an easy win for doing what Plunket recommended in 1945!