I've been on a mild healthy-eating kick over the past few months.
It didn't start as a raging New Years' resolution that I slaved over for a couple of weeks and then chucked aside at the first whiff of a Ding-Dong. The change wasn't urged on by mildly catastrophic blood test results delivered by a stern-looking woman in a white lab coat. It was brought about by looking at the photos of my family and a general realization that, after we have our kids and settle firm-footed on our march to middle age, the women I'm related to tend to s p r e a d.
Yeah. Ain't gonna happen to me.
So. I learned all the nifty labeling tricks of the "whole grains" movement. My personal fave find thus far? The sandwich thins whose ingredient list includes cellulose. Mmmm. Nevermind the neighbors, maybe I can invite the termites in my deck over for brunch. Table reservation for 35,641, please, maitre'd?
I started paying attention to the presence of that funky product known as high fructose corn syrup. Granted, it's the sort of vague, irritated attention that I give to my sister-in-law when she's complaining about my brother, but at least I'm looking and nine times out of ten, said product goes back on the shelf. (Nine times out of ten, I'd like to put my sister-in-law back as well, but you can't have everything in life.)
I even buy this incredibly yummy granola stuff that the bakery dept at my grocery store carries. Raisins and cranberries and 37 types of assorted bird seed, oh my! If I put some of this stuff in my hands and stood in my front yard, within five seconds I'd look like one of those poor bird-jacketed statues that you always see in photos of Italy and England. It's also one of those foods where you can do oral calisthenics while you're eating. "Okay, now only chew the sesame seeds. Okay, now, split all the pumpkin seeds in half." (Of course, sticking with their "We can wreck anything healthy" motto, I noticed the grocery store now carries a chocolate-coated version of the granola. That's pure devilry right there.)
I even had whole grain orzo with a splash of sesame oil for lunch today. I'm such a good girl.
Yeah. You've heard of falling off the wagon?
Tonight, I didn't fall off the wagon so much as run it full-tilt through a stampede of buffalo being chased by 50-ft tall wolves and then drive it off an extreeemely tall cliff.
Dinner menu plans started off as hamburgers.
I realized there was cheddar cheese. Dinner turned into cheeseburgers. (Yay, dairy! Calcium's good for women, right?)
I then realized there was an entire pack of bacon in the fridge, and it was getting kindamaybeclose to the chuck-it date, and then I realized that it's been an awfully long time since I had a baconcheeseburger. And of course, when you're cooking bacon, you might as well cook the whole damned pack, right? (Ah, the path to cholesteroculinary hell is paved with such logical steps as these.)
You wanna know what else I found in the fridge?
An entire package of sliced mushrooms.
You wanna know what goes really well on a baconcheeseburger?
Sauteed sliced mushrooms.
You wanna know how to make sauteed sliced mushrooms taste really good?
Saute them in bacon drippings.
Mushroombaconcheeseburger!!!
Best freakin' burger I've had in years.
But dangit, that side helping of gonna-hate-myself-tomorrow isn't settling very well.
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mmm that sounds good except the mushrooms. But, yeah, gotta live once in a while.
Good job on reading labels. I have been rejecting alot of different things lately too, trying to cut out preservatives and colors.
- science_spot
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