Free-range chicken soup for the soul

As the clock hits the 5:30 p.m. mark, I find myself looking around Finch’s Brasserie and wondering where all these people came from. Now sure, Finch’s is pretty high on the list of well-patronized Bloomington restaurants, but I’ve never seen it filled to capacity on a Friday night. Then it hits me: the Michael Pollan lecture. I’m surrounded by people either too principled, or too guilt-prone, to eat at McDonald’s before hearing the bestselling author discuss his theories on good food.

There are many things about Finch’s that make it fit the bill: The food is local, fresh and served in portions that can actually fit in the stomach of a normal-sized adult.

As I’m flipping through my menu, I notice another popular draw for the restaurant: its association with the Slow Food movement — an international effort that emphasizes local produce and local restaurants.

Now, that sounds great and all, but as I’m sitting at the table waiting for a drink, I’m beginning to wonder when and how I found myself in the company of all these food moralists. And why haven’t they sniffed it out yet that I’m not one of them?

Sure, I shop at Bloomingfoods. I buy my granola in bulk, and I put organic oranges in my pockets when I walk out the door to class. I eat generic cereal with whole wheat nuggets and flaxseed instead of Froot Loops. I’ve never even eaten at a Burger King.

But here’s the thing: I don’t care whether or not the food I’m eating has a ridiculously healthy amount of fiber. I just happen to think whole grains taste better than white-bread.

I don’t care whether or not the restaurant I’m supporting is waging an epic battle against the evil corporate mega-giants. I just happen to see a positive correlation between local restaurants and the quality of the food.

And I don’t even care whether or not the chicken I’m eating had a happy life on a happy farm with happy friends. I just care whether or not it tastes good. And somehow, the free-range chickens just happen to be extra juicy.

I’m proud to be a patron of some of the finest restaurants in Bloomington (and in my opinion, some of the best grocery stores). But I’m absolutely astonished by the stigma of popular morality that comes along with it. Because honestly, I think it’s a much more honorable thing to support a restaurant because of its delicious cuisine rather than its possible associations with activist groups or its ability to keep you squeezed into a spring break bikini.

In fact, I think there are very few things a consumer can do that are more honorable than supporting a business based on its pure excellence.

So, here’s the answer. Why am I an organic-cereal-bar-loving, bulk-buying hippie of a consumer? Because that’s what my tummy wants to eat.


E-mail: cmcglass@indiana.edu