Cooking? Don't look at me. But wait...

So often nowadays, whether it's at work or in the paper or on TV or wherever, there's a lot of discussion about the nation's health and how we're all rapidly turning American. As "convenience" foods have become much more readily available over the recent decades, people have forgotten how to cook. Worse still, they've forgotten how to pay attention to what they're eating.

When was the last time you looked at (and understood) the ingredients label when you buy something? Then consider the last time you just grabbed something and shoved it down your neck without taking any (or very little) notice of what it is or what it contains or how it was made or where it came from. There will be exceptions (our mate Danny for instance has woken up to this brilliantly and taken it a lot further) I'll bet in most cases the latter was a lot more recent and frequent.

It's generally accepted that the stuff we eat is not very good. It's full of chemicals (prompting the recent studies on whether we are "poisoning our kids" - not that I have any to poison) and often pre-cooked to oblivion so that most of the nutrients have been cooked out of them. Then we shove it in the microwave and blast it with radiation to 'cook' it. Before wolfing it down as quickly as possible so that we can get on with something else.

You can't rely on the government to look after us either, as a lot of people seem to do. It'd take a long time and a lot of red tape to finally and officially declare a particular ingredient or chemical (or even a particular product/company) as damaging, and meanwhile the damage has been done. Whilst it's not food, look at how long it took to offically acknowledge that tobacco can have serious long-term effects even though we already knew/strongly suspected it to be the case.

I sometimes wonder how nice it would be if we chose quality *fresh* (likely organic) ingredients and took the time to cook proper meals, then sat down with family and/or friends and treated it as more of an everyday social occasion. Quality, nutritional, enjoyable and non-damaging food? Sounds good. A time to sit down with the family and catch up with each other and talk about things? Sounds a good idea too.

Problem is it's easy to say - and many of us as a nation are indeed saying it, shortly before strolling to the microwave to shove another instant meal in. I'm definitely more guilty than most, making this seem a highly hypocritical article, as I just let everyone else do the cooking instead of taking the time and effort to practice it and do some myself.

A large part of it is of course time. In the oldern days the women stayed at home and did all the housework and had all day to prepare food. Now with the more modern society involving equal opportunities and most women working, that's no more. Now all members of the household come home after a long day's work (or school/uni or whatever) and the last thing anybody wants to do after a hard day at work is a chore such as cooking, we all want to relax. So what do we do, we chuck an instant meal in the microwave (or let our parents get on with it) and wolf it down so we can get on with something else.

With pressure from the other people in our social and professional networks to "hurry up and eat", it's difficult to take the time even if you wanted to. There's always someone waiting and pressuring for you to get back to work, or to get out to a social event earlier (or in our increasingly technological society, get back to them on IM or an online world) or whatever else so we just can't find the time.

So what can we do about it?

Is the answer to try and get the nation interested in cooking and proper food rather than treating it as a chore? How?

Feel free to discuss in comments.

Update time?

So.. I haven't really updated this blog as often as I'd intended. I feel that that it does need to be properly written as I consider it a relatively professional site - as it's done in my free time, of course there are times when I concentrate on other interests.

So what have I been up to this year? Having a life, I guess. I've taken up a few new interests this year which I'll probably be discussing in more length in dedicated articles.

- Photography... I've always had a bit of an interest, but I've taken it up bigtime since being handed down a Canon G2 followed by a 30D, which is awesome.

I started out with landscape shots which I continue to enjoy doing, and now I'm also doing what I'd call "artistic" shots of whatever happens to be around me at the time.

Some of them have come out pretty well though I say so myself, and a few people now have suggested the idea of selling photos. I may take a foray into this soon, maybe I'll have some low-res shots for free on the site and charge for high-res versions or full series including shots that aren't available in the free area. Let me know what you think. I've also thought of outlets such as Flickr and Second Life as strong possibilities.

- Salsa and Merengue. I attend lessons on most Tuesdays. I've been for, maybe 10 or so sessions now, and enjoy it. Some of my personal traits let me down and make it difficult (whilst I'm a good communicator on a professional basis, personally I'm a shy and less-than-confident person), but it's just who I am and after various unsuccessful attempts to change those traits, I've found that the best I can do is work around them. The point is I enjoy the dancing, so stuff the rest really!

It's great exercise too, which is always a good thing. I don't do exercise for the sake of it (tried it once and got bored) but as a part of a genuine interest it's a major bonus.

- Mountain climbing. Or walking, if you prefer - after all, I don't go around with ropes and ice picks, but just go wandering up the paths. I still think mountain climbing sounds more impressive (perhaps I should've gone for a job in marketing). I really enjoy it as it's fun to do, there are some great sights, it costs very little (best things in life do), it's good exercise, it makes you feel a part of the world, it's an accomplishment each time, it's the perfect companion for my photography interest... I could go on but I'll stop rambling there. I try to go every Saturday, although I must admit other events have got in the way a lot recently as well as bad weather.

I'm sure there are others, but that's all I have time to write about right now as my lunchtime draws to a close.

On a completely different subject, I'm trying to be healthy like drinking lots of plain water, going out for a walk at lunchtime etc. It won't last :P

More detailed articles to come soon.

USA

This is a guest article by MG

You just knew when you entered America. Well, at least you knew when contact was made with any person from these shores. Of course, there were Americans on the flight, but people such as the BMI attendant of Mexican descent on landing just oozed of USA. Then there was customs. Our officer was named ‘Hoopes’, which instantly reminded me of the US show ‘Cops’ that used to be a cornerstone of Sky One’s line-up before they decided to alter their programming strategy towards 100% coverage of US Dramas and UK celebratory fly-on-the-wall crap.

‘Cops is filmed on location with the men and women of Law Enforcement’ being the classic phrase mentioned in a deep voice at the beginning of each show – not that I was an avid viewer (no, really) (hysterics). Hoopes was a stereotypical American Cop (as were the majority of the males in customs) – you know the ones – fat, with a moustache as standard (hysterics). One by one we went through immigration, which involved having your fingerprints and photo taken in addition to the mandatory passport scanning. First up was my Dad: ‘You know what they call you John, ‘Jolly Roger’ Dixon? (ironically my Dad’s middle-name happens to be Roger (hysterics)). Next up was my Mum: ‘Your name? ‘Qulie?’, ‘Qulie?!’. Error! Next up was me: ‘Your address isn’t somewhere in Downtown New York, is it?’ I looked quizzically (this was a flight that had just landed from the UK!) ‘Erm, no’, I replied. ‘Oh that’s good, ‘cause that means that I don’t have to cuff you – Damn! I was kinda hoping for some action today’. Yeah, right…

Having safely negotiated that pathway, we were ready to leave the airport. It looked bright outside, but nothing was to prepare me for when I stepped out. It was absolutely roasting. I stood outside for around 2 seconds and immediately came to the conclusion that instead of parping about awaiting my Dad’s decision on what to do and where to go, that I’d look for shade. This proved wise. Unfortunately, our next move was towards a Taxi rank in the opposite direction. So we headed there whilst passing more Limousines than I have ever seen in the same location.

It turned out that the Taxi rank queue was primarily made-up of people who had just arrived on the same flight. During this time, Mum was actually talking with someone who lived on Mountbarrow Road! Madness. When our Taxi did eventually arrive, it was nice to sit in a cooler confine once more. The overriding factor of the taxi ride had to be the way in which the fare accumulated (i.e. it was rapid) in addition to it rising whilst at standstill! $12 for about 1.5 miles seems steep, but I guess it worked out OK at $3 per person.

This is a guest article by MG, imported from Wordpress. Please ignore the 'author/contributor/posted-by' tag on this post, which is incorrect.

Las Vegas Journals: Departure

This is a guest article by MG

The trip had been planned for months. And for numerous weeks I had been putting it off. But then, as work pressures mounted nearer to the time of departure I was actually beginning to look forward to this holiday during my last few days in the offices at College. I somehow felt ready for a break… Somehow felt ready just to leave it all behind and explore a new part of the world for a couple of weeks without any constraints – something that on reflection with the latter, had me bound to a far too significant degree before the day of flying.

We had planned to leave HQ in and around 5AM in the morning in the attempt to check-in 3 hours before we boarded the aircraft that was to transport us over to the States. This seemed like an awful long time – moreso after deciding to have a few pints of Double Hop with a couple of mates on the night prior. I slept all the way to the airport, but failed to do so both in the long waiting period between arriving and boarding, with the plane journey also providing little opportunity for restbite.

The car park we eventually found was easily the most secure I’ve ever seen, and that includes the Manchester City Centre car parks that I have left my Corsa in during nights out in the past. There were all-sorts of authorisation and monitoring procedures that were in place, before our Grandad’s Primera was whisked away to another location. We ourselves were then swiftly ‘whisked away’ to Manchester Airport where the inevitable wait loomed.

We initially decided to wait in the main lobby, which was highly infuriating at the time due to some crappy US ‘comedy’ being broadcast at high volume within close vicinity. You know, the ones in which the ‘live studio audience’ basks in laughter for 80% of the show, whilst people such as my Mum just sit there silently whilst taking it all in. I’m not a fan of these. Moving away from this position was totally desirable at this time, and thankfully, Martyn had found a whole host of seats in a far quieter area, which subsequently allowed me to read the day’s edition of the Times in comparative peace.

As the time of boarding loomed, we made our way to the queue for our aircraft. Everyone seemed eager to board, which always makes me ask the question of why people are inclined to act like this when it doesn’t particularly increase the speed in which our transportation vehicle begins to move – especially when you also consider that unlike many other means of public transport, your seat has already been reserved for you. ‘Steady progress’ in opposition to ‘mad rush’ seemed far more logical, here. In light of this, we 4 all sat patiently until the queue was near-devoid of people.

Take off was sudden. At one point, we were moseying along, the next, the pilot opened up the jet thrusts and whoooosh! We were hurtling down the runway at high-speed. I wasn’t ready for that! Once in the air and following multiple attempts to swallow in order for my ears not to go totally crazy, everything seemed calm once more. Mum and Dad iterated that the take-off would be the most exciting feeling we’d have for another 10 hours… That seemed a long time in the future.

Our seats each had monitors built into the back of the headrests, giving those behind the visuals to an on-board entertainment system. Of course, in the nature of this set of people it was inevitable when I looked around to find that everybody was fiddling about with the options in double-quick time. Me being me, I decided to lay off it for a while before messing around. Instead, the on-board staff were swift in serving up breakfast, which was certainly a good idea. What I found most interesting about this was not the actual content of the breakfast itself (it wasn’t bad, but nothing to go out on a limb and start praising), but the descriptions strewn across the packaging. Words such as ‘Enjoy’ and ‘a light refreshment’ etc (I’m missing some of my notes) were branded across just about everything that was served. Is it me, or are advertising slogans, corporate branding and consumer messages getting way too simplistic? As much as these slogans are likely 100% fail-safe, I just can’t help but feel that there must be another way to do this… Another way to communicate with the consumer in instances such as these. It all seems lifeless, monotone and bland – much like the cuisine that was served, I guess… Hell, even the bog had the word ‘refresh’ next to the sink – it’s as if the method of turning on the tap should have had ‘F5’ splattered across it.

During the flight I was primarily a) trying to solve a 'Killer’ Sudoku puzzle that began with no numbers, which was deemed to be crackable in 35 minutes and not the 3 hours 35 minutes that it likely took me to complete and b) playing a Pokemon puzzle game (ala Columns) on the on-screen Gameboy Colour (Pokemon? Me? Ooh, err!). I had been playing Mario, but had died approximately 6,435,893 times and subsequently got bored of utilising the infinite continues at my disposal.

This is a guest article by MG, imported from Wordpress. Please ignore the 'author/contributor/posted-by' tag on this post, which is incorrect.