See this big jar? Well, I bought it for snacks. As we move into the season of fleece and carbs, I’d always have my big jar filled with salty, crunchy snacks – nuts and pretzel sticks and Chex mix and the occasional cheez ball. Crunch, crunch. Salty, good-for-nothing snacks. All winter long.
Only now that jar is filled with vegetable broth. Ha! Big difference, and I made it myself, based on Dr. Mark Hyman‘s recipe (with just one or two substitutions). Today I loaded my stockpot with kale, Swiss chard, radishes (and the greens), turnip, carrot, celery, onion, shiitake mushrooms, garlic, and ginger. Whew! Add plenty of filtered water, bring to a boil, and simmer for at least an hour. Then strain.
So here’s the plan. A cup of this
crap elixir a couple of times a day instead of the usual fun stuff junk. I tried some already and it’s not bad. Not as bad as I expected. I could drink a cup of this broth two or three times a day.
Little changes, right?
There were three men seated at the table next to mine. They wore fatigues, so I knew they were with the Army National Guard Recruiting Center just up the road from the Whole Foods Market. Big, burly guys. Manly men. Talking about…..smoothies.
My heart sank. If they’d been getting all soft about their daughters, or their puppies, I’d have understood. It’s something that makes a man attractive. But hearing one of them actually say “smoothie,” it just went against everything I hold dear and traditional.
I can’t say when this started, this abbreviating words into baby talk. “Hooded sweatshirt” has four syllables – you’re only saving two syllables when you say “hoodie.” Are you really in that much of a rush? Webster’s Dictionary states the first use of “hoodie” was in 1992, well before texting eclipsed writing words the way they should be written. And now it’s everywhere. Sigh.
Veggies. Did parents start this, trying to coerce their children into eating broccoli and cauliflower? Does the word “vegetables” have such a sinister meaning that saying “veggies” makes them sound more tasty? And even if it’s true that parents can’t speak English to their children and must instead speak baby talk, why is it that I’m hearing it in restaurants? “We have mixed veggies tonight!” I half-expected to be spoon-fed. “Here comes the train, loaded up with peas! Open wide!” Bigger sigh.
So perhaps I should have put this disclaimer at the top – I’m ranting. And I do try to keep my blog posts positive, even funny. It’s just that I love words. I hate the denigration of words. Hoodies. Veggies. Smoothies. Even my dear old father-in-law does it. He doesn’t have “fog lights” on his car, he has “foggies.” Can you hear me screaming from here?
I know, it’s not going to change. I’m old, I belong to a different time. I’m going to go make a blended shake with fruit and almond milk.