Organic, all natural, and best of all VNoPsvNoAF
January 11, 2008
I’m always amazed to see what my husband brings home from the grocery store. I’m a vegetarian, he’s a hard-core, “Give me meat” omnivore. We’ve been married a long time and so far it’s managed to work out, even though the last few years have been a little more challenging. An increased awareness of all things bad in the worldwide food supply has, in his eyes, made me a tad loony.
My goals are pretty simple. I do my best to avoid processed foods, I grow as much as I can, and before I decide to make a purchase I thoroughly read the label. So, on the rare occasion that I ask him to pick up a few things, I can only guess his immediate thought is, “Yesssss, I can get what I want!” He then heads straight for the isles we never go down and his food fantasy begins.
Home he comes with all sorts of sugar-laden, additive-packed, heart-clogging stuff disguised as food. He seems so happy. I love him. I say nothing. He smiles and says, “Look what I got you.”
Ahhh, a bag of “Garden of Eatin’ Blue Chips.” He points to big label on the front that says “made with organic Blue Corn.” And the smaller one in the corner that says, “Made with NO Genetically Engineered Ingredients.” I’m impressed.
Then he hands me another surprise. A 64oz, plastic bottle of Private Selection, “Organic, All Natural, No Preservatives, Organic Apple Juice.”
Wow, they’ve covered a lot of bases with that label. But that’s not all. Let’s see…also front and center, we’ve got a circle that includes Calories, Total fat, Sugars, and Sodium. Then there’s the Good Housekeeping Limited Warranty and the USDA Organic logo. And next to the circle are three boxes that say V, PSV and AF. Underneath that reads, Vegan, NoPsv, NoAF. Hmmm. I haven’t seen that before. Vegan, I get that. NoPsv, NoAF. I’m puzzled. Even a little panicked. Thank goodness there’s an explanation on the side.
V is for Vegan. NoPSV is for No preservatives. NoAF-No Artificial Flavors. They haven’t missed a thing. Their marketing guys should be proud. I sit back for a moment and ask myself how it ever got to this. Something as simple as juicing an apple and there’s all this fuss.
Glancing over at my huband in the family room brings me back to reality. He’s planted himself in front of the TV, Ben & Jerry’s in hand. He’s in heaven. His testosterone driven, instinctual quest to find suitable food for his family has been successful. His mission is complete. Mine’s just begun.
We’ll be having a fresh green salad for dinner.