Behind every good recipe is an even better story—the story makes it tasty too! (If you don’t immediately get the reference to Vitameatavegamin & Lucille Ball – then I feel sorry for you).
Picture this: A big family - Mom, Dad, five children, and Nanny (aka Grandma Daisy) are all watching television together (yes, this was a long time ago).
The feature story on 60 Minutes is playing out before our eyes and we are glued to the set. The big reveal? What happens to baby cows in order for us to get our veal—60 Minutes goes behind the scenes to show the horror. I will spare you the disturbing details of the feature. You can probably just YouTube it anyway.
At the time I was a pubescent teenager and the youngest daughter in the litter. Come the Tick, Tick, Tick of the stopwatch and the ending of the 60 Minutes segment, I recall with shock and disgust the breaded veal we ate just the previous Thursday night! I hop to my feet in the X chromosome genetically encoded Wonder Woman stance all females are born with. The tears fairly spurt out my eyes and with all the angst that a hormonal 14-year-old girl can muster, I scream “THE FAMILY MUST STOP EATING VEAL NOW!"
My father tips slowly to and fro in his rocking chair smoking his Marlboros thinking, why the heck did I have five of them? My siblings laugh in the face of my awakening. Their eyes dart back and forth between them with the knowing—this is primo material for an epic Dean Martin ‘roasting’ of their baby sister. My eldest brother starts in first; he pokes my belly with his finger reminding me that I had NOT ONE, but TWO helpings of veal just that week. He falls to the floor paralyzed with his own laughter. My other three siblings are chanting in unison – “Lani kills baby cows”! My father stares dead on trying to maintain a straight face, but I see the palsyesque jerking of his mouth as he works mightily to prevent his lips from curling up at the ends. Too late, he explodes with laughter and this, of course sends everyone else into greater fits. My mother reaches her arms out towards me as she leads with questions, where do you think our roast beef, baked chicken, and hamburgers come from honey? That’s IT!! I am devastated and can take no more. I run from the TV room up two flights of stairs, slamming the door to my room. Through the sound of my own crying, I can still hear them in the rec room.
Come the next afternoon on Monday (remember 60 Minutes is on Sunday) Nanny (Grandma Daisy) knocks on my bedroom door. She is a tiny woman who never learned to drive and never, ever wore pants or slacks. A dress or skirt with a full regalia of undergarments—including girdle and pantyhose no matter the season or temperature. Now add matching accessories—necklace, earrings, ring, pocketbook, cat glasses and a weekly rinse and set. Her breath smells perpetually of Listerine (the old harsh brown stuff), her skin of Channel No. 5, and a dash of Aqua Net hairspray. It was an intoxicating combination that brought immediate comfort through the nasal passages.
Nanny sits next to me on my bed and asks how I feel about last night. I rail at the injustice to the baby cows and that I cannot be a part of this. She asks me what I might cook for a meal? Do I know how to cook vegetables? Her voice gets excited as she talks about all the colorful varieties and ways to cook them. She says they never get boring, not like meat does. And to top it off, they are easier and cheaper to make than meat. She wants to know if I want to go into the kitchen with her right now and make sautéed summer squash Italian style? It will melt in your mouth. I’m all in.
Both Mom and Pop quit smoking within the next three years (take a pleasant slow deep inhale). All of us together in our jerky and imperfect way become more conscious. More conscious of our bodies, our health, and how to care for the amazing vessel we have each been given. We embraced with gratitude the activities and habits that made us feel good. We began to read and share all sorts of information with each other. Some of us food-combine, some (like me) become vegetarians, several of us become running partners, aerobic and yoga teachers, football and tennis players. We all learned together how to create tasty, healthy meals. This did not mean that we stopped making Toll House cookies, creamy mashed potatoes, or chocolate cake. This is NOT an all or nothing thing. We practiced better habits, not diet. And boy has it been delicious!
You may wonder what happened to the Marlboro-smoking patriarch of this big sometimes happy, sometimes sad, often dysfunctional, but always humorous family. Pop got leukemia at 80. You never saw five children fight harder over who got to take care of their father. We all wanted to be there for him. And although painful, it was an honor and joy to be with him through his dying. Over his protracted and painful battle with cancer, he was able to breathe on his own, never needing oxygen or ventilator. The visiting hospice doctor explained that was because he had quit smoking years prior and this saved him and us from terrible added suffering. He died at home peacefully surrounded by his children.
And what became of Nanny (Aka Grandma Daisy), she died at 94 years old quietly in her sleep. My projected RealAge® test, completed through Blue Zones Project - Brevard, has me younger than my actual years and calculates my estimated age at death to be 94 – just like my Nanny (aka Grandma Daisy).
P.S. At first, I questioned my timing on writing this article about eating vegetables and my family’s journey to a healthier lifestyle, while the novel coronavirus is sweeping the globe. But I see now it is perfect timing. It is sadly apparent that the virus takes proportionally more lives of those who have underlying medical conditions such as diabetes, obesity, cardiovascular disease, and COPD. Not all underlying medical conditions are preventable, but the vast majority of them are. The importance of creating Blue Zones Project communities where healthy choices are easier to make and keeping alive the wisdom of our elders is poignantly clear, and it may just save our lives.
P.P.S. Current numbers from the WHO (World Health Organization) are as follows:
- 17.9 Million people die each year of cardiovascular disease – 85% of these are from heart attack and stroke.
- 1.6 Million diabetics die each year (WHO).
These numbers have been, for years, “pandemic” in scope. Yet no one wants to see what is really killing us and our children. That would require looking at ourselves and the stakeholders who prophet greatly on our ill health (like the alcohol industry, fast food industry, and tobacco industry). But as Upton Sinclair wrote, “It is difficult to get a man to understand something when his salary depends on his NOT understanding it.
Last and most important postscript: Grandparents Rule!!
May you enjoy Daisy’s Summer Squash Italian Style (aka "Nanny Squash") in good health…
Ingredients:
- 3 washed yellow summer squash – slice into coins (thick or thin - your preference)
- Half a yellow onion – sliced in thin rings
- Minced fresh garlic
- 2 small tomatoes - quartered
- Fresh Basil
- Fresh Parmesan cheese - grated
- Salt & Pepper to taste
- Sprinkle – Italian Seasoning (premixed, dry herbs is fine)
Directions:
- Sauté olive oil, onions, and garlic until onions are soft
- Throw in squash coins and mix thoroughly
- Add ¾ cup water or broth, cover, and cook squash over med-low heat until soft and yummy
- Toward the end, add your little tomato quarters; cook for 2 minutes more
- Turn off heat and add all your spices into squash and mix
- Grate parmesan cheese over the top and add fresh basil cuttings
(This works really good with fresh green beans too!)
Post generously contributed by: Lani Callison, Engagement Committee Co-Chair for Blue Zones Project - Brevard
Blue Zones Project is brought to Brevard by Pisgah Health Foundation