Aspirational value of processed food

Amazed at how many processed foods a migrant was thinking of at the time, I went into lecture mode

Often when we talk of changing food habits in the country, especially amongst the upwardly mobile lower middle class, we forget to take into account one important aspect: Aspiration. The more people like us are becoming aware about avoiding trans fats, sugar, sodium and pretty much everything else in our food, the more this upwardly mobile segment is starting to consume these very things. This was brought home to me when I saw the preparations that Seema, a migrant from Jharkhand, was making for her one-year-old, for their two-and-a-half-day train journey back home. “I’ll need at least Rs 500 to buy the food for the baby on the trip,” she said. Her shopping list began with a box of instant baby cereal and six litres of mango and orange drinks. “Not only are these a healthier option to cola, I can also mix the cereal in them to make it more palatable,” said Seema. Other items on her list included half a dozen bags of chips, a staggering variety of biscuits and some lollipops (only to be used if the baby became too fractious). 

Amazed at how many processed foods she was thinking of at the time, I went into lecture mode. But to no avail. My (unsolicited) opinion that processed foods were unnecessarily expensive and nutritionally empty, fell on deaf ears. So did my advice to feed the child fruit and homemade snacks on the train. “Whole wheat mathris could be a long-lasting and nutritious substitute for rotis,” I said, adding that she could also think of carrying bananas, paranthas and boiled eggs. Seema looked incredulous. “My husband has told me to spare no expense in getting the best food possible for our daughter so that she doesn’t trouble us on the train.” she said. “She hates boiled eggs and bananas anyway — if I try feeding those to her on the train, I’m sure she’ll throw a massive tantrum.” Of course, when I advocated dealing with tantrums hard-heartedly, and even letting the child go hungry if she refused to eat, Seema looked at me like I was a monster. 

“We’ve seen a lot of poverty growing up,” she said soberly. “What’s the use in our both working so hard if our only child goes to sleep hungry?” Which was why their toddler, who had just started eating solids three months ago, was already addicted to potato chips. “If she’s not in the mood for a meal, I often give her a packet to ensure that at least her stomach is full,” said Seema. My last, slightly frantic suggestion that she tried feeding the baby cucumbers or apples instead, was met with a derisive snort. Other than chips, the only other things the baby liked to eat were glucose biscuits soaked in milk and baby cereal. Essentially, other than for chips, it seemed the baby was not exercising her chewing skills at all. And her parents, who didn’t know any better, were going to indulge her, regardless of what I said.  

Eventually Seema went off to do her shopping, leaving me alone with my thoughts. With a combined household income (she works as a nurse while her husband is a security guard) of less than Rs 20,000, the couple wanted to give their daughter, not only the best they could afford, but also everything they had missed out on growing up in poor rural homes. Perhaps TV advertisements for cereal, juice and biscuits are selling much more than these nutritionally empty products — they represent a better way of life, a higher standard of living that Seema and her husband aspire to for their daughter. Now, how can home-made mathris or cucumber sticks ever compete with that?