The Colour of Food

Art Kirschenblatt, my roly poly fourth-grade art teacher, would waddle up and down the classroom in a rage — desk by desk — with the same critique for each student's sloppy drawing: 

"More colour, MORE COLOUR!"

Which is basically how I feel about food. It must have colour. Vibrant colour, in-your-face colour that beckons, “Eat me!”
Consider eponymous delectables like oranges, blueberries, and green beans  Glorious colours stamped, “Created by God."
Unsurprisingly though, most vegetables are atheists. In fact, a cherry tomato once explained to me:
“Believe? After I lost my whole family to a salad bar?”
Which annoyed me, so I ate him. Nobody likes a whiney tomato.
But everyone loves colourful food.
Consider the monoliths that crank out the ultra-processed junk food:

A pack of Skittles, a box of Smarties, Sour Patch Kids — pretty colours maybe —  but none of them exist in nature. Unearthly colours we eagerly gobble up like turkeys in a barnyard. And what about Gatorade -- have you ever seen their windshield-washer blue flavour?
What’s next -- Day-Glo cheezies?

Then there’s the other end of the processed-food spectrum — kibble, dry dog food. What were those pet food colourists thinking? Let’s replicate the colour of sewage?  Let's make fish bait look appetizing?


Because we care for our cats and dogs even if they're colour-blind, we feed raw. Not any raw of course, but Meadys because it's the best: all natural, 100% human grade, hand-rolled, coloured by nature, created by God.

Take a close look at the pic above and you get what I mean. Art Kirschenblatt had a point:

"More colour, MORE COLOUR!"