Grandma was right. She would refuse to eat out and when forced to do so by Ma would pick at the food on the plate as if what had been presented to her wasn’t fit for dogs. Now while Grandma took it to extremes, as grandmas will, her point about food safety remains valid.
In one’s home, it’s possible to control what’s in the food, how it’s stored, prepared, served, etc. Well, duh.
I’ve been in numerous factories for food processing: Cheese, milk, fish, chickens. In the best of these, the hygienic standards rival hospitals. It’s spectacularly sterile. Visitors and works must wear scrubs. Cute little paper bonnets, little slippers, long gowns.
I’m not saying we have to live in fear of contamination, but if you’re stomach is rumbling, there’s a reason.