A few years ago my husband and
I were on a health kick, opting to starve, condition, and sculpt our bodies for
the sake of weight loss, system reboot, and general bandwagon jumping.
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At our healthiest, my husband and I ate only these items for ten days. During that time, our children completed an exhaustive study of the best gypsy communities nearby that take walk-ins. |
We each lost a sizable percentage
of our girth and volume, and basically became movie stars.
Unfortunately for our son, he
turned 11 in the middle of our radical lifestyle change, and his birthday
dinner consisted of little more than a spoonful of grains, a plate of steamed
vegetables, and tepid water.
It was inhumane what we did to him in
the name of good health, and he has not forgiven us. On the bright side,
we awarded him a life-long aversion to quinoa. If you've ever tasted quinoa, you'll know it's a good gift.
Since that time, we have come to our
senses and have gone back to a normal life filled with weekend meals of little
other than burgers and bottomless baskets of French fries and regret over
saying yes to a fourth cocktail.
What I’m trying to say is that my
husband and I have become depraved gluttons.
Life changed aggressively in a
short amount of time, and we found it difficult to sustain a healthy lifestyle.
Instead of mornings at the gym, I started to spend hours of my day sitting in
front of a computer reading and writing for personal gain, but more for
personal entertainment. He eschewed
sensible meals for the consumption of portion sizes better fitting a much
larger man, an elephant, or even a brontosaurus. As a result of these
changes, we are both less fit than we were those few years ago.
I have narrowed the reasons for our spiral into poor health down to three: age, laziness, and comfort foods. The
first, age, is cruel, raining on everyone's parade, especially those who still consider themselves young and vital to society's advancement and positive
evolution. The second is a character flaw that most people choose to
hide, but only the brave display in the hope that they can someday be saved and
magically set free from its clutches. But let's talk about the
third. As the cook in our household, it used to be that I’d save the
seldom-prepared meatloaves and cream soups to the winter months, when our
bodies crave more hearty fare that ensures a layer of fat for protection against
the harsh elements.
But the pendulum has stopped
its swing, and the balance of hearty and light is gone. We now enjoy
lasagnas and pot roasts in the heat of July and the chill of
January. Cold salads no longer grace our summer table, unless they are
accompanied by Crock-Pot chicken and noodles, a dish best served from a crash
cart with a side of nitroglycerin tablets.
Now, it's almost as if I purposefully
create unhealthy meals to create a deliciousness contest that nobody wins. Fish
and rice and veggies sound okay, until you see how much butter goes into the
preparation of these foods. More butter is better than less butter, and exponentially
better than no butter.
It comes down to general
indifference about eating more arugula and less alfredo. As the main meal
maker in our house, I have lost interest in making food seem appetizing in
favor of making food that is appetizing. Plus, with long hours and work travel
and kid activities every night, it’s hard to expect everyone to eat grilled chicken
and salad when no one’s at home to prepare or eat it, and you’re drive-thru
dining again.
Like this evening, for
example. Will it be pizza, burgers or hoagies? The choices are abundant.
At least I know dinner won’t be ruining anyone’s life tonight.
*******
This post inspired by:
Prompt #3: What’s for
dinner?
"More butter is better than less butter, and exponentially better than no butter."
ReplyDeleteI think you just summed up my life's mantra perfectly.
I always get a thrill when two like minds come together in perfect harmony.
DeleteI've actually developed an elaborate cooking strategy around not letting my husband see how much butter is going into the night's arugula quinoa grilled fish. Scrumptious! Love the post... and if you have the number to that gypsy community, please forward. I've been looking for one that takes walk-ins.
ReplyDeleteI mean, if you do it right, you can get a rather nice butter crust on top of the fish. I'm certain from your comment that you have mastered the technique. As for that gypsy colony, I'll have to get back to you... :)
DeletePoor Cam. Has he forgiven you yet? ;-p
ReplyDeleteAnd the butter quote - I think you could substitute "bacon" and that would work too.
Elaine, you're a genius - YES! :)
DeleteButter...yes indeed.
ReplyDeleteJump aboard the butter bandwagon! We're all friends here.
DeleteEverything, EVERYTHING is better with butter.
ReplyDeleteI recently discovered the deliciousness in browned butter. Guess who's making all the browned butter goodies??
Yum, browned butter. I've only baked with it one time. But it was a glorious time.
DeleteHoagies! I am constantly ridiculed for calling 'heros' by their proper name- Hoagies! Thanks for making my day, and I hear gypsy communities don't have the open door policy that your kids were hoping for :)
ReplyDeleteYes - they are hoagies. I've actually never really heard the term hero being used in normal conversation, so I'm convinced that's the wrong term. Glad to be of service. ;)
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