This science stuff cracks me up:

Production of hydrogenated fats increased steadily until the 1960s as artificially hardened liquid oils replaced naturally hard saturated animal fats in the US and other western countries. At first, the argument was a financial one due to lower costs; however, advocates also said that the unsaturated trans fats of margarine were healthier than the saturated fats of butter.[14] The Center for Science in the Public Interest (CSPI) campaigned against the use of saturated fats for fast food cooking starting in 1984. When fast food companies replaced the saturated fat with partially hydrogenated unsaturated fats, CSPI’s campaign against them ended. While CSPI defended trans fats in their 1987 Nutrition Action newsletter, by 1992 CSPI began to speak against trans fats and is currently strongly against their use.[15]

As we all know, Wikipedia is run by a bunch of hippies and who knows what’s right or not. But I can vouch for this part about the quacks at CSPI, because I worked at McDonalds in the late 70s for about five years and these nuts were running rampant then about our products. I’ve followed the food industry for years, coming from a family in the restaurant business, and of course, I am a Fat Guy. I’ve watched no end of quack do-gooders go through these kinds of gyrations for four decades. All they want is to tell you what to do, and as long as some idiot will pay attention to them, they’ll keep doing it. This time they happened to find an idiot mayor of the largest American city, so they get a nice score there. There was never anything wrong with saturated fats, and there’s nothing wrong with trans-fats, either. It’s just another peg to hang their bitchy manifestos on, and that’s it. The same principle applies to other industries I’ve been involved in, too, as well as most other pogroms run by the progs. Fact is, I can’t think of a single thing that all these various People’s Action Committees for the Well-Being of the People and Their Snot-Nosed Kids have been right about, anyway, outside of lead-based paint and asbestos. Boob jobs, anybody?

Me, I plan to fry my chicken in Crisco cut with lard just like my grandmother did, and I plan to butter my biscuits with butter, not fake-ass crappy margarine, just as the good Lord intended. And I’m going to cook my steaks rare and bloody in peppered olive oil, and I’ll like as not continue to forge right ahead with the chopping and cooking without washing my hands in scalding soapy water after I so much as look at poultry. Nobody’s died on my watch yet, nor gotten even a little bit sick, including the one who’s eaten the most of my cooking since I started cooking, and that’s me. If I ever do pass on as a result of what I made a decision to ingest, well, nobody gets out of here alive, and at least I’m not running around like some flaky Chicken Little, waiting for the vague, vaporous sky to fall.