Grab it and go.

An unexpected side effect of not being a glutton anymore is that it is easier to
eat simply and appropriately for special circumstances.

Let me give you an example.  Our family went on a day hike yesterday at Afton State Park.  We planned to eat lunch on the trail.

Once upon a time, such a day would have been all about the picnic lunch.  I would have planned it on my grocery list several days earlier.  I would have made fancy sandwiches -- pressed Italian hoagies; or brie and ham on baguette; or roast beef, red pepper, and smokey cheddar on onion kaiser rolls.  I would have brought baby carrots and celery.  Fresh fruit, possibly cherries or strawberries.  Maybe pasta salad.  A cooler would probably be involved.  Fresh-squeezed lemonade.

And of course, since we have to keep our strength up, there would be trail mix and jerky and granola bars.

You should have seen what I brought for a weekend camping. 

Nowadays my thought process is a little different.  Rather than the hike being an excuse for a fantastic picnic lunch, the hike is... the point.  And instead of "Ooh goody, a picnic!  What kind of fun picnic food do I want to eat?"  I am thinking, "What's convenient to carry in a pack on a hot day, won't spoil, provides enough calories for the hike, and can be eaten with minimal fuss and not much to pack out, so we can get back to hiking?"

Obviously it has to appeal to the kids, but other than that, those are the main requirements.

So what is hiking food now?

• Little red-waxed cheese wheels.
• Triscuits.
• Possibly apples.  (If there's room.)
• Water.

All you need is a knife.

Instead of trail mix, we now pack peanut M&Ms.  (No more eating the chocolate and leaving the nuts!)

If we want to give the kids another choice besides cheese and crackers, we might make a few peanut butter sandwiches.  Unlike the fancy sandwiches I used to make, there's no concern about them going bad in the heat.  And I don't know about you, but a PB&J (or PB&H) that's slightly squashed at the bottom of a pack tastes pretty good when you've been hiking all morning. 

This isn't to disparage the families who came to the park ready to have a traditional Memorial Day barbecue.  On our way out we passed a man and a woman each gripping one handle of a heavy picnic cooler.  A man with a bulging paper grocery bag in one hand and a big sack of charcoal briquets up on his shoulder.  A woman carrying the baby while her older teens pushed a stroller laden with food and soda and lawn chairs.  True, an appetizing aroma of cooking meat drifted through the park.  Condensation formed on cans of ice-cold soda as they were pulled out of coolers and passed around.  Even the bags of baby carrots and cauliflower chunks looked pretty good after a day of hiking (the tubs of stagnant ranch dressing, not so much). 

The picnics I used to make were, objectively speaking, "healthier" than the trail food I pack now.  They were balanced.  They contained fresh fruit and vegetables.  Usually it was all homemade, with few processed-food items.

They were also enormous, a lot more trouble, and the biggest problem?  They were the center of my attention.

Sometimes, an objectively "less healthy" food experience is mentally healthier.  For all the tsk-tsking about our grab-it-and-go culture, occasionally grabbing and going makes a lot of sense.  There's more time to sit down and enjoy the simple food we've brought, out under the sky, if we spend less time fussing about it back in the kitchen.

Comments

[Erin]

Erin, how were you able to change your previous thought process? Was it a matter of changing habits, using mantra's, and the things you've already discussed on the blog or did you develop any other particular techniques? I have a huge challenge with this process. My mom's love language is food, as was her mother's. I have the same issue. I enjoy cooking and find myself investing tons of time and mental energy into specials meals and events. My meals tend to be well balanced and relatively healthy and I am learning portion control, but I really admire people who don't make a gathering or special event all about the food. Is it more important to learn coping skills like portion control and balanced meal preparation or try and change the thought process behind it? As I'm getting further along in this lifestyle change, I think I've underestimated the importance of the latter. Why do I put so much of my self worth on the elaborate meals/treats I make for guests in my home, family, friends, and even coworkers? Ack, it's frustrating. Sorry for hijacking your blog, I just want to get to the point where the hike is about the hike and not the picnic!

[Kate]

Well another way to curb your thought process is by financial necessity. I don't splurge on big picnics because we can't afford it. What packs the most nutrition for the least money is the primary question. For those who don't have to live within a food budget, perhaps imposing one would be helpful.

[bearing]

Kate, since my food was all homemade, there wasn't anything *expensive* about my previous picnic style, at least not more expensive than I might spend on making dinner. (True, I tended to buy the sandwich rolls back then, but today I would bake them myself.) It was more time-consuming than anything else. It's definitely possible to overeat inexpensive food, so I wouldn't trust the budget to keep me in line.

There's something about grilling that makes people want to eat enormous amounts of meat, I think! I saw one family of four who appeared to be grilling at least a pound per person. And even our family, with our Eat Less Meat commitment we started about three years ago, finally gave up and decided that when we make hamburgers we're going to go ahead and make two per person. Theoretically we'll have them half as often...

[bearing]

Erin -

"Why do I put so much of my self worth on the elaborate meals/treats I make..."

Okay, this is a problem for me too, but not one I've written a lot about. I might not use the term "self-worth" but I definitely have the problem that I care too much that my friends and family are impressed by the food I make. I call it "hostess anxiety." It's worthy of a post on its own but I'll have to think about it some more...

It might be worthwhile to consider what you fear happening and then try it and see if it's so bad. I haven't done this, but ... what if you threw a party and didn't make enough food? What's the worst thing that's likely to happen? What if for a whole week you didn't cook anything that took more than half an hour?

It's not really fair for me to bring this up without confessing that I'm getting better about cooking more simply for my immediate family, but I still have trouble when I cook for others. There's hope, though.

One thing -- I think a lot of women with this problem excuse it by saying "I can't help it, I show my love with food." I suspect that for a lot of us the real reason is "I try to BUY MY FAMILY'S love with food." In other words, we're trying to *get* something, not *give* it... we're looking for affirmation. We need to get over ourselves. At least I need to get over myself.

In any case, most of the time my thoughts didn't change until after the behavior changed. I had to prove to myself that something would be okay by trying it out, before I would really believe it. Fake it till you make it.

[Lisa]

That's a really good point -- I tend to do the same thing, and it kind of takes away from the fun of whatever the activity is. Sometimes just grabbing something easy and heading out the door makes it a lot more enjoyable.