My life 8 years ago was very different. I was encouraged to have sugary cereals for breakfast, chaat in the evening with my grandparents was a neccessity and fast food for dinner was special but hardly a rarity. Over the last 8 years though, the world’s, and my family’s, eating habits have changed drastically. Everybody is tripping over themselves to move onto “a healthier way of life”. A whole bunch of new diets have taken centre stage, keto, intermittent fasting, vegan, plant based, etcetera etcetera. But what differentiates one from the other? Why is it so hard to find what’s good for you when, according to the brochures, everything is good for you? And is everything so bloody costly?
Now we aren’t contending that produce that has been chemically tampered with is something you should consume but does the opposite warrant such exorbitant prices that one’s hand is forced? All the health experts and the créme of society trumpet the fabulous things organic vegetables do to their lives and that has made it something of a statement. Sort of like a badge of belonging to the club. Either you’re cool or you aren’t. And producers in this field know exactly what they’re doing too. They know what it means to their consumers and who can blame them for making the most of it? It’s basic economics, really, demand goes up therefore price goes up. Simple? Yes. Acceptable? We don’t seem to think so.
Clean and healthy produce should not be a luxury, especially in a country like India where a vast majority of residents are vegetarians. It simply isn’t fair that they’re forced to continue with inorganic vegetables while producers of organic vegetables proceed to push their goods further out of reach. We believe that a cleaner and healthier diet for all should be a thing of the not so distant future. Imagine a day when a clean, organically grown, cucumber sells for as much as a cucmber should be sold. What a radical thought, isn’t it? That’s where we, The Eat Neat Project, come in! All the goodness, all the benefits and none of the high-balling. You get what you pay for, just the vegetable, and not the entry fee to an unnecessarily exclusive club.