My mother, a woman who in the 70’s and 80’s kept a dinner of ground beef mixed with Open Pit barbecue sauce topped with Velveeta and wrapped in Pillsbury Crescent Rolls* in frequent rotation, is now very concerned about food additives, GMO’s, and prepackaged foods.
The packaged food industry was supposed to unshackle women from the kitchen and free up the second adult in most families to join the paid workforce. Only we’re being poisoned! Or not. Just mostly. Mostly poisoned.
I am still trying to adapt to a full-time working schedule, and I’ve been told I should avoid any food with a label. Mmm hmm. I’m sure they’re right, in an ideal world. That is not the world in which I currently reside, however.
While I figure out just how much family-poisoning in the name of time and convenience is acceptable to me, please enjoy this picture of my new salad dressing shaker:
I was just using an old spaghetti sauce jar, but that must have offended my husband’s sensibilities (no woman of mine will be caught using an old jar, no sir! I’ve got my pride…)
So even if the rest of the dinner is slowly killing my family, at least the salad will be okay.
*It was one of my favorite dinners.