I was recently introduced to Planet Organic, a supermarket just a short walk from where I work in central London, near Tottenham Crt Road. I went and bought lunch there, sat and ate it, and was suddenly struck by a calamitous carrot of conscience. (You get a lot of these alliterations when you grow vegetables.)
It's become a major part of my adult life to eat organic fruit and vegetables (local stuff of course, no asparagus from peru thanks!), and i only ever buy free-range meat. It's an obsession, and I'm sure my friends sometimes get annoyed at my preaching. But now I find myself in a desperately tricky position. When I'm at home it's always simple to act like this. But when you're at work, it's impossible to know how good the food is when you buy lunch.
So I get free-range egg sandwiches regularly (can't have them every day though - think of the smell), but anything else i buy is ultimately unorganic and unethical. I think I've become comfortable with this, and the fact that it's a damn sight cheaper. It's always been easy to say 'it's so difficult to eat ethically when you buy lunch', and excuse myself of the organic duties.
But now it's not difficult, yet I'm torn. Now I'm in the position where it's all to easy for me to buy organic and ethical lunches. I'm in the position where my whole daily life can be an organic pasture of whimsy and happiness. Leo Hickman in the Guardian manages it, but there's a part of me that's clinging onto this small bastion of bad food and living. And what a thing for me to say!
I'm frightened of stepping onto the organic gravy train. It's like putting the last piece into the puzzle, and I really do want to finish it, but my hand has gone to sleep. I'll hate myself forever if I don't take the plunge, but why does it feel like it's one made from the highest diving board?