It began as an innocent, open question by a Facebook ‘friend:’ Name three unprocessed foods you ate today.

Oh, piece of cake! I mean, piece of gluten free, black bean brownie!

You see, I think Paul and I eat pretty ‘clean.’ We have never owned a microwave so never having had microwaveable meals for 25 years with all their fat and salt, makes this a no brainer, right?

(Excuse me as I sit on the wrapper of the Snickers that I just shoved in my pie hole in between working horses this morning.)

“OK,” my fingers began to peck on the iPad before it crashed again. “Easy.” I started to think of my breakfast. “Blueberries, frozen, on my cereal (organic but still processed) and organic, plain, yoghurt. I’m pretty sure yoghurt’s not processed. It’s just milk that’s turned bad, right?

So anyway, that’s two things.

But then came lunch. Oh, dear. That veggie burger that I grabbed at Burger King on the way to Home Depot. Probably dripping with meat juice from sharing the same grill with the regular burgers. There’s nothing terribly healthy about these veggie burgers or their white bread buns. It’s the junk food of vegetarians. And yes, I had to have the fries, but also, an unsweetened tea with lemon.

I can fudge a little, I mean carob a little, and sort of claim that tea as the third thing.

Now, dinner at our house depends on how tired the cook (that would be Paul) is. Because he’s all about competing in these runny, swimmy, bikey things of late, he’s even more conscious of what he eats and usually bakes a couple of salmon fillets, roasts some potatoes and throws a couple of cups of frozen peas to boil. So I eat pretty well, too.

Except that he was out of town this past week so Aunty Pam happily dined on a whole can of Planters ‘Nut’-fiction for dinner. Twice. Because it’s a ‘Heart Healthy’ mix of peanuts, almonds, pistachios, pecans, walnuts and hazelnuts.

But probably not all at the same time from a container that advises nine servings. Along with a hard cider chaser. Er, palate cleanser.

I’m not being completely truthful, you know. Yes, I despise cooking. I really, really, dig eating, and Paul tells me I have good instincts (“have you thought of adding a squeeze of lemon and a sprinkling of thyme on that?”) when he is laboring over the stove, but I will do nearly anything to avoid it. But this doesn’t mean I’m utterly incapable. Truth be told I actually do cook once or twice a week: baking the freshest, organic, chicken breast I can find, along with sweet potato complemented with a wee bit of puréed dark green, leafy vegetables on the side.

For the dogs.

I’m fine with the nuts.