Back when I was fat I used to lament the fact that I would always have to eat. Smokers could throw out all their cigarettes and alcoholics could empty their liquor cabinets, but I was always going to have to eat. It didn’t seem fair at all. Giving up the source of my problem seemed a lot better than trying to manage it.
Now that I’ve got my eating under control, I’ve realized I’ve got it so much better than the reformed crack whores and nicotine addicts of the world. I still get to eat! Recovering alcoholics can’t even go to a wine tasting, but if I decided I’d really like to eat half a pumpkin pie covered in whipped cream, I can still do that.
Sometimes though, I make dangerous food discoveries. When I made my vagina muff-ins I discovered a low-calorie, low-carb fruit spread that was delicious. I bought a couple jars in different flavors to eat on the bread I bake every other weekend. Funny how I ended up eating most of it off of a spoon. I don’t recall seeing a stainless-steel bread mix in my cookbook.
I should have remembered my dysfunctional love for jams and jellies which I had discovered as a child at Bob Evans or any similar family sit-down restaurant. I would grab one flavor each of the rectangular plastic packets of jellies and preserves settled in the metal rack in the center of the table. Then I’d peel pack the foil, stick my finger in and lick it dry. I don’t think I even realized I was supposed to spread this stuff on something that wasn’t part of my hand. I’ve since had to ban the preserves from my fridge. Delicious or not, they are obviously too much for me to handle outside of a square pre-packaged portion.
My other dangerous food revelation came in the pudding aisle. My grocer was entirely out of the instant pudding, so I bought a box of cook and serve instead. I went through the whole process of boiling the milk and stirring for five minutes, poured the concoction in my glass Pyrex bowl and waited a couple hours for it to set, all the time lamenting the slacker stock boys at Kroger. Then I got a spoon and served up some of the dessert to be hit with a creamy taste explosion. Cook and serve is sooo much better than instant! The texture is creamier and the skin that I used to hate as a kid I now find somewhat appealing. I ended up eating the whole bowl. The cook and serve has slightly less calories than the instant, but that calorie deficit seems irrelevant if I’m scarfing the whole batch and taking a cue from my cat by licking the bowl clean with my tongue. I considered banning the cook and serve pudding as well, but I’m just going to try to keep my portions under control because it’s too tasty.
Dangerous foods or not, I do love eating and I’m glad I haven’t had to give it up.