We emphasize the classics at the McNamara house, so it’s no surprise that our 5-year-old son Max has become enamored of Popeye. At the slightest prompting, Max will sing the famous Popeye theme song, grab an imaginary can of spinach, gulp the contents and show one and all his newly minted muscles.
It’s unimaginably cute.
So imagine my horror when I learned this morning that the Popeye-inspired miracle of spinach – based on the supposed truth that the vegetable is a great source of iron – is in fact no more reliable than Bluto left alone in a room with Olive Oyl. Spinach, according to this blog post, will no sooner help in turning one’s biceps into twin powerhouses than will the pedestrian pork chop … or even eggs.
The misconception is blamed on, of all things, a misplaced decimal point back in the 1890s.
Please don’t tell Max.
