In my younger days, before my younger days when I had enough control over my diet to eat nothing but Lucky Charms, I lived with my parents and they controlled what I eat. I think everyone has that first moment when they leave the home and try something new and then when they come home it’s like when Dorothy comes back from Oz and suddenly notices everything is black and white. I would imagine it felt like coming off the most amazing drug high to come back to a farm house where you live with your aunt and uncle and suicidal dog. My Oz-like drug experience was trying whole milk because my house only ever had skim milk. Once I had drunk the nectar of cows that is whole milk I couldn’t go back to the watery glue paste that was skim milk. Little did I know that I was spoiled to be able to count on milk being in the house because these days the only milk here is the milk I bring into the house. It made me realize something about my parents, and I’m sure you’ve met people like this yourself. They seem to believe that the blander the food is the healthier it must be. Kind of like the idea that if the mouth wash hurts like hell, that’s how you know it’s killing the germs. These days, we wake up to a heaping bowlful of healthy breakfast mush. It’s get all the bran and nutrients and bran you need with none of that taste to get in the way of the health. For dinner, we’ll be eating heated slab of fish and unsalted starches. Enjoy.