Off the Cuff / My Other Journal

The Deadly Spinach

Cry your heart out and watch what you eat, Popeye, and don't try to flex your muscles, since your upper arm may not pop up anymore.

Recently, it is unfortunate that spinach has become public enemy number one.

The news says the fresh spinach, which is the culprit, was packed under a few different companies' titles and it came from the same region, California's Salinas Valley, to be exact. Why this happened and what the findings are so far, we are not informed.

The only thing we know about this is that it is the E-coli that causes the fatalities. Not much more.

If the hygiene and the washing of the leaves are to blame, the companies have no excuse. If the fertilizing of the crops are to blame, maybe, that should be looked at. If human error or nature's freakiness are the reasons, then we should be able to overcome these things.

There is a third possibility. Although it is a far-out one, it makes me shudder. What if E-coli was introduced to the crops on purpose? After all, we're living in dangerous times and we've got enemies. I hope not, if not for our sake then for their sake.

I never trusted the fresh, supposedly washed salad stuff that comes in bags. Once or twice I bought a bag, only to wash it again before serving.

Talking about food, we went out to dinner with a few people last night. We all had a nice time, except the ordering took a little time and caused a few laughs afterwards. The reason is us; that is, my husband and I.

What is the norm for us was little known by this crowd and that provided the entertainment. This was why:

Usually I am the first one to choose what I want and my husband the last. He is so funny that way.

"Shall I give you a few minutes more?" the waitress asks and he nods. Then, after everyone has chosen what they want and closed their menus, he feels guilty. He still hasn't chosen, mind you!

By this time, the waitress is back to take the orders. Everyone is giving their orders. When his turn comes, he points at me and says, "I'll have what she's having."

This never fails, unless I have ordered something peppery. Then, I warn him that what I ordered may burn his tongue. So, he points to any one thing on the menu and asks for it.

When our children were young and we went out to dinner as a family, our older son--the one who is bossy--would ask him to order first. "Mom, you don't order, until Dad orders!"

When the two of us go out alone, we always get the same food and the same comment from the waitresses. "Oh, you guys are so easy!" Are we?