Lunch Box Globalization
The lunches my mother prepared for my sister and I reflected the Standard American Diet of the mid-20th century, which unfortunately did live up to its acronym, S.A.D. Typically, it was sandwiches– white bread with some sort of processed protein (processed cheese slices, nitrate-laden lunch meats, canned tuna) or some sort meat left over from our dinner before. Now, don’t get me wrong– my mother made these sandwiches with a great deal of love and she can’t be blamed for the organic, healthy-eating trend happening after her kids were grown. And, truth be told, some of these sandwiches were actually pretty darn good. My sister and I agree that a cold meatloaf sandwich on white bread with pickles and mayo is one of the great comfort foods.
Today, though, we have more options. And these options are propelled not only by the healthy-eating trend, but by globalization as well. For example, this morning I had to decide if I wanted left-over Chicken LoMein from my dinner the night before, or if I wanted to go to my cafeteria at work and get Lasagna (it’s Italian week) or go off-site to get Mexican carnitas or Lebanese shwarma. It would never have occurred to our mother to give us anything other than our SAD sandwiches simply because our world was smaller when we were kids.
The perfect illustration of what I am trying to convey is this: Right now, as I type this, it is my lunch hour at work. I am eating my Chinese LoMein and writing a post that is going to be read by people from Australia, Canada, Ireland, Europe and all over. That just boggles my mind.
Thanks for sharing lunch with me.
Lori Gloyd (c) 2006
Lori
This was so perfect…I don’t know, it was the picture that pulled me in and the noodles that bound me
Anita Marie
Good on you, I just ate left over spaghetti for my breakfast! Re your mother’s sandwiches: My mother was an excellent cook and could make bread but we were the storekeeper’s kids so guess who got the remainder bread for our lunches! The country kids loved the dreadful white McGavins and would trade their homemade for ours, both sides benefitting. Then we had a new school with a basement and a stove and guess who fell down stairs one day with everyone’s glass jars in the copper boiler–no bones broken but no lunch for anyone. Fran
That looks delicious!
As a sixth former (aged 17-1
I was allowed to go home for lunch -a rare privilege and a 1 mile walk each way, sometimes to sit in the garden if the weather was warm, sometimes indoors. My father always walked home from work for lunch and my mother was home for lunch most days too. One day a week I sat at the top of table of kindergarten kids and helped them with their meals. So much simpler then …..