I always have snacks in my dorm, but to be honest I rarely ever eat them. I generally have lunch and dinner, and that’s enough.
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Mine too. I know far too many people who struggle with depression likely because of poor eating habits. That’s my guess anyway, because they always say, “if I ate better, I’d be happier.”
My folks are generally healthy. One of my grandfathers had a lot of issues because he worked around toxic chemicals for 30 years, which caused heart failure and numerous other things. But as far as I know, that’s the only reason. He would have been very healthy otherwise. I may be the least healthy of all the kids at least, but none of that is my fault.
When I was either five or six - very small, in any case, - my mother taught me how to boil an egg, with the immortal words, "if you know how to do this, you'll never go hungry".
From then on, breakfast - which I prepared myself - was always a healthy cereal (with milk), boiled eggs, and toast with bitter marmalade (because I liked bitter marmalade; my brothers each preferred different cereals, and different marmalades, and these were always available, as my mother would remind us to confirm our individual preferences before heading out for the weekly shop). And coffee - even as a child, I used to prepare proper coffee for my parents, after dinner at the week-end, and also learned to prepare it for myself (I was the only person who drank it at breakfast in those days, everyone else drank tea) at breakfast as an adolescent, along with cereal, eggs, toast and bitter marmalade.
Fresh fruit was always - but always - available, because my mother liked it, and knew it to be healthy, and knew that if it was available, we would eat it. No sweets (candies), ever, and cakes only rarely, such as on special occasions (birthdays, Christmas, etc).
Now, she did prepare a mean (and delicious) apple crumble, a brilliant rhubarb crumble, and a seriously superb apple (or rhubarb) tart (which I still miss, and which some of my university friends still recall fondly, decades later); those tarts, or fruit salad, or fruit, or natural yogurt with honey (which my parents had discovered on many holidays in Greece and the Greek islands, such as Crete, and both loved) tended to comprise dessert, chez nous, when we were growing up.
She would sometimes batch prepare food at the week-end, or, sometimes, late in the evening, - she excelled at planning, and multi-tasking - which we would then be able to consume during the week.
Now, encouraging us to learn to cook (I was sent off to a cooking course one summer, as were my brothers, - my mother, who grew up in an affluent and quite comfortable house where her brothers were indulged, had strong views on idle and entitled males, and had married a man who adored her and was completely supportive of her, personally and professionally - and my mother also sent us on typing courses, during the summer holidays, insisting that this was a skill that would always come in handy, such as when writing essays in university) meant the introduction of the sort of stuff - such as pasta dishes, my parents wouldn't have had these growing up - and also, sometimes, risotto - which my dad loved - and occasionally, something such as a curry to the family menu.
That was fine; my parents - who travelled widely and were incredibly open-minded - loved to try out new stuff.
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Yep they do have a plenty up north. There is also an 85 near Apple Park on Main Street Cupertino which is quite small but there are also other locations in San Jose.
