Pondering a conversation from last summer about the relationship (or lack thereof) between healthy eating habits and access to healthy foods, I hit upon a question that won’t let me sleep. Previous studies I’ve seen referenced look at the proximity of grocery stores that sell fresh produce versus the number of fast food restaurants. I had argued at the time that the whole “food desert” issue was misguided in the first place, because most overweight poor people do manage to get to grocery stores one way or another, and aren’t simply subsisting on Snicker’s bars from the corner gas station.
I think there’s more to it than that, though. The ubiquitous presence of fast food–to the near exclusion of all other restaurants–in poor neighborhoods is not mere coincidence. But when we look at a grocery store versus McDonald’s, we’re comparing apples to Big Macs, if you will. I had stated that the reason many small groceries in poor neighborhoods don’t bother stocking large amounts of a wide variety of vegetables is that the local residents simply don’t want to buy them. Why is that? And more importantly, what does fast food have to do with it?
We’ve got one side of the equation taken care of, I think. I see why it’s not as cost-effective for a corner IGA to have the same offerings of fresh vegetables as, say, a Kroger or a Giant Eagle. But on the other side of this equation, if we’re not comparing apples to Big Macs, what should we be comparing to Big Macs? I plead that the reason the answer evaded me previously is the same reason why fish rarely notice the water around them. I am immersed in the foodie culture of Columbus!
Most of the people reading this no doubt consider themselves people of taste. You care about the quality of the food you eat, where it came from, and how it was produced. You’re educated enough to appreciate the difference between artisanal food and industrially produced, food-like substances. And in all likelihood, despite any temporary setbacks, you’re well off enough that you’re not choosing between eating well and paying the electric bill this month. You would probably describe yourself as “middle class,” and then prove it by feeling uncomfortable at the idea of being any more specific than that regarding your personal finances.
If this sounds like you, I’m guessing that when a friend of similar circumstances says to you, “My husband is taking me out to dinner for our anniversary this weekend,” an image of the happy couple going through the drive-thru at Taco Bell is probably the furthest image from your mind. Indeed, you’d probably offer your condolences even if you heard they’d gone to a Chinese buffet, or some “homestyle” buffet like Golden Corral. Let’s face it–even a place like Bob Evans or Cracker Barrel says the romance is dead. What chump would take his wife out to a place like that for their anniversary?
This is where more sophisticated eaters than myself could step in and suggest any number of snazzy little bistros that would fit the bill. Columbus is loaded with them. If there’s one thing Columbus does well, one thing we ought to be known for nationwide, it’s our restaurants. Any city where you can sign up for a guided tour that takes you along an entire circuit of eateries is one that you can be sure takes seriously the art of dining out.
Going out to eat is the height of pleasure in eating. Any hack can bumble about in their own kitchen, and some do better than most. But when you want it done right, you go to a professional. You go to a chef. Someone you’ve read articles about. Someone whose creations ignite your imagination as well as your palate. It stands to reason, then, that when you do get ambitious in your own kitchen, you’re likely to try reproducing your favorite dishes from restaurants. No? Do you eat lamb at your favorite restaurants and then prefer veal at the grocery store meat counter? I’m guessing not. You’re going to cook what you like, and the chefs have demonstrated to you what it is that you like best. You’ll try to mimic that.
It works the same way for the poor, except that for many, Golden Corral is anniversary-worthy fare. From their perspective, the 99-cent value menu at Wendy’s is as high as they’d aspire for routinely eating out. (Notice I didn’t just say “Wendy’s,” but specifically the 99-cent value menu. Those four- and five-dollar hamburgers are for rich folks! “You just wait ’til the tax refund comes in, honey, and then we’ll go to Pizza Hut. Shoot, maybe we’ll even go some place for ribs!”)
So imagine you’re poor, living in a poor neighborhood. You have a couple jobs–or more likely, one with screwy hours that keeps the rest of your life hectic. Your family gets a monthly food stamp allotment of around $600. You’ve bought fresh vegetables before, but they mostly go bad in the fridge before you can get around to cooking them, so you’ve pretty well broken that habit. The veggies look nice in the store, but it’s a waste of money if they’re all going to end up in the trash. Maybe you’ll buy some frozen ones. Or canned. Canned is cheaper, and you don’t lose it all if the power goes out.
You have very little money to spend eating out. When you do buy something, it’s typically something you can get for under $2.00. Big-time splurging means spending up to $30 on a family of four. If this is your life, what is the height of your culinary experience? What are the favorite restaurant dishes you hope to reproduce at home? When day-to-day, homemade fare is bologna sandwiches and cheese puffs, when “cooking” means spaghetti with canned sauce or macaroni and cheese from a box, what would you do to liven up the offerings coming out of your own kitchen?
I’ll tell you. You’d learn to cook a good burger. That’s self-sufficiency right there. You’ve gone from scraping together money for a burger to making it out of stuff you can buy with your food card, meaning you’ve now got more cash available for other things. You’d go to Goodwill and buy a little deep fryer to make onion rings and fries and battered fish and all manner of goodies. If you can do that, all of a sudden you’re a culinary artist! And if you can actually learn to make a good pizza from scratch–not some old, crusty thing like a hunk of dry wheat bread that hurts your mouth when you try to bite into it, but something soft and chewy and greasy with everything melted just right so it tastes like it’s from the pizza places–if you can do THAT, you’re a food wizard. You never need to eat out again.
Okay…so if this is your worldview, what are you looking for when you go to the grocery store? Rutabegas? Tofu? Little crackers made from puffed rice and beet juice for $7.00 a bag? Fancy little frozen Kashi dinners for $5 apiece that you’d have to eat two or three of to be satisfied? Heck no! You’re looking for meat! And flour, and sugar, and oils or shortening. You’re going to assemble the raw ingredients to all sorts of obesity inducing, artery clogging delights! You’re going to be proud of your cooking, you’re going to enjoy eating it, and your family will appreciate it.
So here comes Jamie Oliver or the local equivalent, on a mission of mercy from a different class and culture, saying, “No, no, that stuff is gross! That’s not what you’re supposed to like. How could you? Eww! Come into the light, you poor, ignorant, tasteless savage. Come eat like us. Here–eat this bowl of noxious smelling weeds. You’ll notice the flavors are reminiscent of the pine and lemon scented cleaners they use to disinfect the restrooms at your workplace. Soda? Oh, heavens no! Soda is Satan’s venom! You can wash everything down with a bit of spoiled milk (we call it “kefir”), or some tea with a giant fungus growing on top. Refreshing! Now how could you ever have thought to eat something as disgusting as barbecue and onion rings when there’s all this wonderful, healthy food that you can grow right in your own back yard?”
I think the answer is clear, though perhaps not feasible. If you want to evangelize to the poor about healthy eating, you need to do it through restaurants and stop letting the fast food chains define for people what good food is. These restaurants need to be conveniently placed and competitively priced. They need to have healthier versions of culturally appropriate dishes, complemented by some other, perhaps less familiar offerings. If you can give someone a flavorful, filling, cheese-and-veggie wrap through a drive-up window for less than $2.00, you can get people in poor neighborhoods to start eating fresh, local, and healthy. That will then begin to become part of what they see as good food.
