How Have our Eating Habits Changed Over Time?
There has been a lot of change in the meat, poultry, fish, eggs, and nuts that Americans eat since 1970. The chart above displays a small sample of some of these foods and demonstrates the changes in our eating habits over time. For example, one of the biggest visible changes is the decline in our consumption of beef. This is probably due to the rise of heart conditions that have since been linked to red meats like beef. Similarly, we've eaten an increasing amount of chicken since 1970, most likely to supplement the beef we were no longer eating. Chicken has fewer health risks compared to beef, so Americans probably found it to be an appealing substitute for the beef they were cutting out of their diets. Another interesting trend, though it's a bit harder to see, is the slight rise in our consumption of almonds over time. This could be attributed to the popularity of including almonds in foods like cereal, granola bars, chocolate, and milk. This inclusion of almonds in these foods helps companies market their products as "healthier," since Americans generally perceive almonds (and most nuts) to be healthy snacks. An American could buy a chocolate bar with almonds in it and feel they are making a healthier decision than just eating a regular chocolate bar.
McDonaldization Exercise
My method of disrupting McDonaldization was to go to a fast food restaurant and engage whichever employee took my order in a conversation that forced him or her to break the usual fast food script. In George Ritzer’s book The McDonaldization of Society, he discusses the predictability that comes from scripted interactions in fast food restaurants. He claims that while employees follow an actual script, customers tend to provide scripted answers in response, despite having no physical script in front of them (92). I find this to be true in my daily interactions with those working in customer service; I often give scripted answers even though I’m not the one following a script. I thought fighting this norm would be an interesting social experiment that also avoided being rude to anyone involved.
I dragged some of my family members along to an Arby’s with me because I was way too nervous to go by myself; venturing off from the “normal” way of doing things always makes me nervous. I already dread talking to strangers, so my way of easing speaking to an unfamiliar face is following the script. This ensures I won’t embarrass myself and I will always be polite to the employee—my script always involves a lot of “please” and “thank you.” However, my goal was start a conversation that made this basic interaction impossible, which pushed me right out of my comfort zone.
First, I made sure that no one would be waiting in line behind me—I didn’t want to hold up other customers. Then I walked up to the cash register (with some encouragement from my dad), and when the cashier asked what I’d like to order, I responded by asking her what she would order. “If this was your lunch break,” I asked, “What would you get? Do you like the cider here? How about the salads?” She replied professionally, telling me her feelings for each menu item I inquired about. We got into a disagreement about whether or not ranch is any good, but the interaction remained polite. I eventually asked her about the new Arby’s sliders, and she told me her favorite was the jalapeño one, explaining how she enjoyed the kick of the pepper.
The most noticeable difference in behavior after this conversation we had was that this woman applied the “slider happy hour” discount for me (sliders at Arby’s are one dollar each during happy hour, and I was there about an hour after it was supposed to end), which I believe she wouldn’t have done if we hadn’t extended our interaction past the script. We’d had a human-to-human conversation, and maybe she enjoyed that enough to give me a small benefit, whether it was a conscious decision or not. One factor I wonder about, though, is whether or not the interaction would’ve gone the same way if the employee hadn’t been an adult woman. Perhaps if the employee I talked to was a teenager, he or she would’ve been more hesitant to vary the script, or thought I was weird for trying to ask their opinion about fast food items.
Talking to an employee about the food on a menu doesn’t seem like a wild or crazy concept; we all do it with waiters and waitresses in sit-down restaurants. But pushing myself to do this at Arby’s made me extremely nervous. Even once I’d begun talking to the woman I still had butterflies in my stomach and wanted to sprint out the doors. To me, this proved just how ingrained the scripted, McDonaldized conversations are in me. I may try to stray from this script even more in the future—especially if it gets me discounted food!
I dragged some of my family members along to an Arby’s with me because I was way too nervous to go by myself; venturing off from the “normal” way of doing things always makes me nervous. I already dread talking to strangers, so my way of easing speaking to an unfamiliar face is following the script. This ensures I won’t embarrass myself and I will always be polite to the employee—my script always involves a lot of “please” and “thank you.” However, my goal was start a conversation that made this basic interaction impossible, which pushed me right out of my comfort zone.
First, I made sure that no one would be waiting in line behind me—I didn’t want to hold up other customers. Then I walked up to the cash register (with some encouragement from my dad), and when the cashier asked what I’d like to order, I responded by asking her what she would order. “If this was your lunch break,” I asked, “What would you get? Do you like the cider here? How about the salads?” She replied professionally, telling me her feelings for each menu item I inquired about. We got into a disagreement about whether or not ranch is any good, but the interaction remained polite. I eventually asked her about the new Arby’s sliders, and she told me her favorite was the jalapeño one, explaining how she enjoyed the kick of the pepper.
The most noticeable difference in behavior after this conversation we had was that this woman applied the “slider happy hour” discount for me (sliders at Arby’s are one dollar each during happy hour, and I was there about an hour after it was supposed to end), which I believe she wouldn’t have done if we hadn’t extended our interaction past the script. We’d had a human-to-human conversation, and maybe she enjoyed that enough to give me a small benefit, whether it was a conscious decision or not. One factor I wonder about, though, is whether or not the interaction would’ve gone the same way if the employee hadn’t been an adult woman. Perhaps if the employee I talked to was a teenager, he or she would’ve been more hesitant to vary the script, or thought I was weird for trying to ask their opinion about fast food items.
Talking to an employee about the food on a menu doesn’t seem like a wild or crazy concept; we all do it with waiters and waitresses in sit-down restaurants. But pushing myself to do this at Arby’s made me extremely nervous. Even once I’d begun talking to the woman I still had butterflies in my stomach and wanted to sprint out the doors. To me, this proved just how ingrained the scripted, McDonaldized conversations are in me. I may try to stray from this script even more in the future—especially if it gets me discounted food!
Refrigerator Photograph
This refrigerator belongs to a friend of my sixteen-year-old sister, who helpfully contacted some of her classmates about letting me--basically a stranger--take a picture in their kitchen. Before I start, I'd like to state that any analysis I've made about the food in the fridge is merely speculation, and I don't claim to know everything about a family's life or situation based on one conversation and photograph.
That being said, my sister's friend (who I'll call Dana) is sixteen and lives with her single mother (who I'll call Kathy) and older brother (who I'll call John), who is in his late twenties. I wasn't told if John had a job, but Dana works part time at McDonald's and Kathy is a teacher in Detroit. The family lives in a comfortable middle-class home, but is struggling with money due to Kathy's boyfriend's medical bills; he had been fighting a brain tumor for many years before passing pretty recently, and most of the financial burden fell on Kathy.
The first thing I noticed about Dana's fridge was the abundance of frozen, easy-to-cook food in the freezer. This sort of food could be for John to feed himself when he's home alone, and/or for Dana to cook herself a snack or dinner if Kathy is working late. However, the fridge contains a great deal of other foods: there are staples like eggs, butter, and milk; numerous drinks, like bottled water, juice, and (again) milk; and plenty of fruits and vegetables, like pears, apples, and grapes. Families undergoing financial hardship often face problems with incorporating enough produce into their diet. In the film Food Inc., this struggle is shown through a working-class family that buys most of their meals at Burger King. The family complains that fruit and vegetables are too expensive, so they eat unhealthily because it is all they can afford. It's nice to see that Dana's family, while in a bit of a financial struggle, can still afford and prioritize fruits and vegetables in their diets.
So, there's a healthy mix of most food groups in Dana's fridge...but one food group is missing: meat. Besides the meat found in the frozen foods and what may or may not be deli meat on the second shelf, this fridge is surprisingly short on meat of any kind. I wish I had realized this while at Dana's house; it would have been interesting to hear if this was normal or not. One theory I've considered relates to the essay "The Double Binds of Getting Food Among the Poor in Rural Oregon", written by Joan Gross and Nancy Rosenberger. Gross and Rosenberger interview poor citizens in two Oregon cities, many of which depend on government assistance or similar programs to put food on the table. Many of the interviewees shared that they were able to buy meat in the beginning of the month, but as they got closer to their next big shopping trip, they ate less and less meat because they weren't able to afford it. This is interesting in that the first thing Dana said to me when we opened up her fridge was a hasty "we haven't gone shopping in a while." This claim could mean that the process of eating less meat over time applies to her family, too.
This sort of connection, along with the rest of my thoughts above, was fascinating to make; it's one experience to read or hear about how families eat and another to see it right before you. I also regret not spending more time with Dana to ask her about her life, her family, and their eating and shopping habits, since I was sort of in a rush when I stopped by her home. Nevertheless, I feel this experience made the situations described in Gross and Rosenberger's research all the more real to me.
That being said, my sister's friend (who I'll call Dana) is sixteen and lives with her single mother (who I'll call Kathy) and older brother (who I'll call John), who is in his late twenties. I wasn't told if John had a job, but Dana works part time at McDonald's and Kathy is a teacher in Detroit. The family lives in a comfortable middle-class home, but is struggling with money due to Kathy's boyfriend's medical bills; he had been fighting a brain tumor for many years before passing pretty recently, and most of the financial burden fell on Kathy.
The first thing I noticed about Dana's fridge was the abundance of frozen, easy-to-cook food in the freezer. This sort of food could be for John to feed himself when he's home alone, and/or for Dana to cook herself a snack or dinner if Kathy is working late. However, the fridge contains a great deal of other foods: there are staples like eggs, butter, and milk; numerous drinks, like bottled water, juice, and (again) milk; and plenty of fruits and vegetables, like pears, apples, and grapes. Families undergoing financial hardship often face problems with incorporating enough produce into their diet. In the film Food Inc., this struggle is shown through a working-class family that buys most of their meals at Burger King. The family complains that fruit and vegetables are too expensive, so they eat unhealthily because it is all they can afford. It's nice to see that Dana's family, while in a bit of a financial struggle, can still afford and prioritize fruits and vegetables in their diets.
So, there's a healthy mix of most food groups in Dana's fridge...but one food group is missing: meat. Besides the meat found in the frozen foods and what may or may not be deli meat on the second shelf, this fridge is surprisingly short on meat of any kind. I wish I had realized this while at Dana's house; it would have been interesting to hear if this was normal or not. One theory I've considered relates to the essay "The Double Binds of Getting Food Among the Poor in Rural Oregon", written by Joan Gross and Nancy Rosenberger. Gross and Rosenberger interview poor citizens in two Oregon cities, many of which depend on government assistance or similar programs to put food on the table. Many of the interviewees shared that they were able to buy meat in the beginning of the month, but as they got closer to their next big shopping trip, they ate less and less meat because they weren't able to afford it. This is interesting in that the first thing Dana said to me when we opened up her fridge was a hasty "we haven't gone shopping in a while." This claim could mean that the process of eating less meat over time applies to her family, too.
This sort of connection, along with the rest of my thoughts above, was fascinating to make; it's one experience to read or hear about how families eat and another to see it right before you. I also regret not spending more time with Dana to ask her about her life, her family, and their eating and shopping habits, since I was sort of in a rush when I stopped by her home. Nevertheless, I feel this experience made the situations described in Gross and Rosenberger's research all the more real to me.
Industrial Food Diary
Day One (09/19/16)
For breakfast:
|
Day Two (09/20/16)
For breakfast:
|
On two weekdays, a Monday and Tuesday, I recorded everything I ate. The first day I ate as I normally would. On the second day, I tried as best as I could to avoid processed foods and only eat "real" food--something that I obviously failed at. I found it hard to steer clear of processed foods, but I had sort of expected this. Since my main sources of food are from Michigan State's dining halls and my "combo" meals and snacks from Sparty's, my options for food are already pretty limited. The MSU dining halls don't serve bad food, necessarily, I'm unsure about the source material and the "freshness" of some of the meals.
On the second day, when I was trying to avoid processed foods, I had an especially hard time at breakfast. I scoured the website 100daysofrealfood.com to see which sorts of foods would work well, but even approved, "real" foods seemed suspect in the dining halls. MSU offers an array of breakfast items, but I felt like I couldn't eat any of them: donuts, muffins, eggs (I've been told from friends who worked in the dining halls that the eggs aren't actually real eggs), sausage (I haven't ever been comfortable with what this sausage actually is; I"m not confident that it's all real meat), and a wide variety of cereals. Normally my favorite breakfast is a bagel with cream cheese, but on both of these diary days I was running a little late in the morning and didn't have time to wait in line for the toaster. I ended up getting a bowl of Special K cereal, knowing full well that it was processed and a bad choice, but as the saying goes...it was "better than a donut."
I felt a lot better about the rest of what I ate on day two; even if they weren't the healthiest foods, I didn't feel like either meal was particularly processed. I did, however, go out of my way to avoid processed food I might have eaten on a normal day. For example, on day two, I had fresh pasta from the dining hall for lunch, whereas on day one I had Chef Boyardee pasta--a much more processed version of a similar meal. Even on day one I found myself reading all the ingredient lists to see if my normal food choices would pass my "real" food requirements for day two. The Chef Boyardee can boasts that it has "NO artificial colors," "NO artificial flavors," and "NO preservatives." However, the ingredient list on the back of the can tells a different story. It lists over twenty ingredients, including ones we've read about in Melanie Warner's Pandora's Lunchbox like soybean oil, high fructose corny syrup, and sodium phosphate. I truly have no idea what was in, for example, the tortellini I ate on day two, but it was fascinating to read the ingredient lists of what I could. Overall, it was definitely hard for me to cut out processed foods with my busy schedule and limited food options, but this project made me want to think more about how much processed food I eat on an average day and try as best I can to work around this in the future.