Thinking

Well, I just got home from work. As I sit here by myself, I can't help but think. Strange. Anyhow, I was just thinking about how meticulous some of us are in regard to cleaning our dishes. I mean, if there's a bit of crusted food on a fork, do we eat with it? Certainly not! If there's a spec of dirt on a plate at a restaurant, would we eat there? No! However, as I sat here chowing down on my previously frozen "TV" dinner, I couldn't help but wonder why it is that we so intimately trust that little cardboard box that it comes in.

I mean, think about it: we have no idea who handled that box, either during or after assembly. Then, I thought about how easy it would be for ANYONE to slice one open and inject something in there and then glue it back shut. How interesting to think that we trust strangers to pack our food, strangers to handle that same food, and someone strange to scan it and then place it in the bag for us. Yet, we don't think of our frozen little delights (tonight, mine was cheese ravioli from Michelina's) as being angrily molested by strange people with unknown intentions. I guess that we would like to think that, since it's food, people will handle it with the dignity and manners befitting a chef. Poppycock. Our frozen food has been abused in more ways that we could dream of. Assembly line-like processing and packaging, being thrown about, dropped on the floor, and crammed in a filthy truck.

Did all of this thinking about the true nature of my food keep me from eating, though?

Certainly not.