Dad would always refer to people on restricted diets and fitness routines as “real health nuts.” A doctor who chows on lettuce and legumes while roller skating seems like the looney one, until we find ourselves pinned to a hospital bed with tubes coming out of us because our hearts are clogged and our feet are about to be amputated. I often wanted to ask him, who is the real nutcase? Maybe it isn’t the granola cruncher, nor even the smoothie sucker or the zealous vegan, but the American industrial food addict who has gone nuts.

We were good industrial eaters – until Dad got diabetes.