Snack Time

Another post in a series on Famous Family Sayings

My son brings back memories of when I was a teen when I see him eating a meal and an hour later being hungry again. There were times I felt like a bottomless pit when it came to food. I just couldn’t get enough. When you’re young, not only can you do extra meals, it’s almost required.

It wasn’t that we weren’t fed at my house when I was growing up. Somehow we always had plenty of food, at least as far as I can remember. It might not have been exactly what we wanted, but we never went without food on the table. In between meals, we had to ask Mom if we could have something to eat, and when we did the answer we got was usually the same: “You can have a piece of fruit, a piece of bread with butter, some saltines, or a glass of milk.” Not that there’s anything wrong with any of those choices, but I always hoping Mom would say something like, “You can have a handful of cookies, some brownies, a big piece of cake, or a big bowl of ice cream.” That never happened.

We had cookies or brownies for a snack after school sometimes, and we did have ice cream or cake for dessert after dinner sometimes, but those weren’t things we were allowed to have in that time between the after school snack and dinner, or on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon. No, during those times when I was a growing boy and my stomach would rumble a half hour after eating, I could have “a piece of fruit, a piece of bread with butter, some saltines, or a glass of milk.” My older brothers also taught me to sprinkle some sugar on the bread and butter to liven it up a bit, and though the thought of eating that now gives me the shivers, it was great back then. I can imagine what nutritionists today would say about that – butter AND sugar together on a piece of white bread. Mom might get arrested for child abuse.

However, for years we got the same mantra, “You can have a piece of fruit, a piece of bread with butter, some saltines, or a glass of milk.” Throw a little peanut butter on some saltines, pair it with a glass of milk, and you have a great snack. I liked fruit, but when you’re a kid and you want some cookies or a brownie, a banana pales in comparison. Let’s face it, 99 out of 100 kids would choose cookies, brownies or cake and ice cream over apples, oranges and bananas any day. I don’t need to get a grant from the National Foundation for Eats to do a scientific study to figure that one out. None of my brothers or sisters - or me - ever said, “Yes, fruit! I love it! I’d take this over brownies any day!” That absolutely never happened. I can tell you, however, that we went through a lot of milk, bread, butter, peanut butter, saltines and fruit back then due to Mom's mantra on snacks. 

Fast forward to when I had kids. When they asked for something to eat in between meals what did I tell them? They could have whatever they want? No, I told them, “You can have a piece of fruit, a piece of bread with butter, some yogurt, or a glass of milk.” Okay, so it’s not exactly the same, but it’s close enough. As for myself, I still eat a lot of fruit today and I love to have a piece of bread with butter when we make our own bread and it’s still warm, fresh out of the bread maker.

They say that old habits never die, and I think that was meant in a negative way for bad habits. However, sometimes good habits don't die either, like having "a piece of fruit, a piece of bread with butter, some saltines, or a glass of milk" for a snack. And as you can see, Famous Family Sayings never die either.

Take All You Want, But Eat All You Take

First in an occasional series on Famous Family Sayings

I’ve noticed lately that I don’t each as much as I used to. Maybe it’s because I subconsciously hear some of the words from the Pink Floyd song “Dogs”: And it's too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around. Or maybe it’s because things just don’t taste the same to me anymore. A lot of food just tastes bland to me. Can you lose taste buds as you get older? I don’t know, but it seems like I am. The other night we had something with dinner and my wife and son both said it tasted very salty. However, to me it didn’t taste salty at all. Not a bit, which is kind of scary.

Or maybe it’s because as a kid I had it drilled into my head to “Take all you want, but eat all you take.” That was a phrase we heard a lot at my house growing up. My parents hated to waste food. Heck, when you’re paying as much as they did for food every week for nine kids, you don’t want to be throwing it away. So they had a rule: you can take as much food as you wanted, but you had to eat it all. If you asked how much spaghetti you could take, the answer was “Take all you want, but eat all you take.” If you asked if you could have two burgers, the answer was “Take all you want, but eat all you take.” If you asked how many cookies you could have, the answer was “Three.” As much as we tried, the cookie answer was never “Take all you want, but eat all you take.” Nor was it for M&M’s, brownies or ice cream. It was for liver and onions, but we never took Mom and Dad up on that one. 

Seems pretty simple, but in the competitive world of dinner time in a large family it wasn’t as cut and dry as you’d think. If you took only a small amount of food to make sure you could eat it all, when you went back for more there might not be any left. Mom usually made enough for everyone plus a little more, but there were times there was just enough for everybody. If you went conservative, someone else could take the rest of what you should have taken the first time. If you took a large portion to make sure you got your share and couldn’t finish it, somehow Dad always knew. Even if you tried to cover it up or rush past him to get the dishes to the sink, he knew. On those occasions you’d get the corollary to “Take all you want, but eat all you take.” That is, “Your eyes were bigger than your stomach.”

When one of my parents said it, I would always picture my face with these huge eyes that took up my whole face, alien like. Knowing my younger self, I probably went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror, just to make sure I didn’t have crazy eyes. We didn’t get punished for taking too much; Dad just let us know that it was not alright. There was something about disappointing him that made me not take too much. Which is why if “Your eyes were bigger than your stomach.” was a sarcastic comment from one of my siblings, it was like rubbing salt in the wound. I not only felt like I disappointed my parents, I had to take a ribbing on top of it.

As for eating today I take all I want, but I do eat all I take. Like my parents, I don’t like to waste food either. Food costs way too much today to throw it away. Besides, every time I look in the mirror these days, I can see that there’s absolutely no possible way that my eyes could be bigger than my stomach.  

The Last One

Bring a pan of brownies to a party and you’re a hero. Everybody loves brownies. I only know one person who doesn’t like them, but he doesn’t like anything chocolate (I know, can you believe that?). Everyone oohs and aahs when they see the brownies and you barely get them down on the table and people are grabbing them. It’s like a shark feeding frenzy, especially if there are teenagers around. It seems like nobody is bashful about taking one – until there’s only one left.

Why are so many people afraid to take the last one of anything, whether it’s brownies, cookies, cake, muffins, doughnuts – pretty much any food item? It’s almost like they’re afraid they will be cursed for life if they do. Or maybe it’s the Homer Factor. Homer Simpson wouldn’t worry about eating the last one of anything and maybe they don’t want to be seen as being like him.

Whether due to a supposed curse or the Homer Factor, people won’t take the entire last one, but they’re perfectly willing to take part of it. Maybe like half. The problem is that someone else comes along and takes half of the half that’s left, and sometime later another person takes half of the half of the half. For those of you who aren’t mathematically inclined, that would be 1/8 of the last brownie, cookie, piece of cake, muffin or doughnut. That’s a pretty small piece of something.

Last week at work there were some Dunkin Donuts muffins left over from an early morning meeting, including one of those incredible coffee cake muffins that was calling my name. Somehow I resisted and about a half an hour later I went into the kitchen to refill my water and, you guessed it, there was half of the muffin left. An hour or so later I returned to the kitchen, and when I peaked into the box I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a paper-thin slice of coffee cake muffin left. Seriously? First of all, I don’t see how anyone could have cut the muffin with and left a slice that thin. I could practically see through it. Secondly, why not just eat the rest of it? The piece that was left couldn’t have had more than 1 calorie so I don’t think its going to blow anyone’s diet. Curse or Homer Factor? You decide.

Growing up, we weren’t afraid of any curse for taking the last brownie and the Simpsons weren’t even a thought in Matt Groening’s head. When Mom made brownies or cookies they didn’t last long. Everyone got their share (2 small brownies the way Mom cut them or 3 cookies) and then the rest were up for grabs. When you went back later all that was left was a few crumbs, maybe some melted chocolate chip residue on the plate. Feeling bad because you ate 3 brownies or 4 cookies? I don’t think so. Be polite and leave the last one for your little brother? Definitely not. We came, we ate and we left nothing behind.

So the next time I see a leftover coffee cake muffin in the kitchen at work, I’m taking it. Not half of it, but all of it. I won’t feel bad and I won’t feel guilty. And I won’t be worrying about any curse.