“Do you want to get some Oreos?” The two chocolate cookies harboring double-stuffed fluffy-frosted goodness do tempt me, but only momentarily. “No,” I sharply reply. “It’s a 10.”
Hy-Vee grocery stores have adopted NuVal, a food grading system that rates nutritional value on a scale of 1-100.
A food’s nutritional worth is displayed on the shelf price tag, with one being the worst and 100 being the best.
Initially, the concept of this idea seemed to be almost heroic.
This is the biggest punch any player in the grocery industry has thrown in America’s epic fight against obesity since the introduction of the health foods section.
The numbering system is meant to help people make wise food choices for their families and educate the public on good nutrition.
This makes the assumption that America wants the education.
Anticipation for my first shopping trip with this new system had accumulated since I first saw the advertisements.
As a self-proclaimed “health nut,” I penetrated the aisles with my cart as my valiant steed, confident I would slay the single digit numbers and select only high-rated choices.
I conquered the cereal aisle, pleased with my choice.
My Kashi clusters were among the best-rated cereals, and I continued my shopping trip with confidence.
However, the snack aisle proved to be my worst enemy.
All the numbers were in the teens and below.
My Ritz cheese sandwiches that are a staple to my diet were no exception: They were a seven.
They aren’t the best food choice. But I’m allowed to have some indulgences, right?
I hesitantly put the box back on the shelf and rolled my cart away.
Instead of leaving the grocery store proud, as I had anticipated, I left feeling guilty.
The little labels in Hy-Vee seemed to mock my food choices and I felt judged.
Yes, judged. Then I became angry.
I still believe I have a fairly healthy diet, and just because I like me some Ritz from time to time, doesn’t mean I’m a junk-food junkie.
I think the motive behind Hy-Vee’s NuVal system is altruistic, but to be perfectly honest, I don’t like it.
I know when I am making a poor food choice and when I am making a good food choice.
(On my next excursion, I rejected the Oreos but snatched up the Ritz.)
The little numbers on the pricing labels tell me what I already know.
For those who the program is directed toward, those who maybe aren’t equipped with good nutritional education, it still doesn’t help.
It seems as though only half of all the food on the shelves is labeled, leaving the consumer confused and either leaving with a bag full of numberless, possibly non-nutritious foods, or a bag full of groceries he or she has never purchased before, and maybe doesn’t even like, just because they had a “good score.”
We need to support initiatives for nutrition education. We need to fight obesity.
But making the aisles of the grocery store a giant (incomplete) report card is not the way to do it.