Tell me... what you've had for dinner. The other day I met a classmate I hadn't seen in a long time. He's working in a small town in Navarre, Maestro. In a town where the road ends. Far from the capital. He told me that the school is small and contentious. Since many of the school’s children live in rural neighborhoods, they offer a dining service in the school and eat there, along with the rest of the teachers and children. He said he was surprised. Surprised that the monitors in the dining room have terrible problems to give the children to eat various things. For example, vegetables. As the issue becomes more and more worrying, the children are asked what they eat for dinner. Some answer pizza, some answer sandwich, some answer sanjakobo and/or fries, some one. All these children – at least geographically – live far away from both large shopping centers and fast food restaurants, but this type of diet has reached its last farm. They have met with their parents and argue that they have less and less time to prepare meals. “I don’t know if it’s just a matter of time,” I said, “both industrial and fried cakes have something that makes our brains salivate.” When we entered the cafeteria, we ordered a sweet bomb.