Wacky Wednesday

Finally a nutritionist developed a diet we can all relate to: days filled with eating Hostess Twinkies and Cupcakes, Little Debbie Snack Cakes, Doritos and Oreos.  The idea was to see whether dieting strictly by calorie counting and not by nutrition would yield weight loss and poor health.

 Here's a sample day:

Espresso, Double: 6 calories; 0 grams of fat

Hostess Twinkies Golden Sponge Cake: 150 calories; 5 grams of fat

Centrum Advanced Formula From A To Zinc: 0 calories; 0 grams of fat

Little Debbie Star Crunch: 150 calories; 6 grams of fat

Hostess Twinkies Golden Sponge Cake: 150 calories; 5 grams of fat

Diet Mountain Dew: 0 calories; 0 grams of fat

Doritos Cool Ranch: 75 calories; 4 grams of fat

Kellogg's Corn Pops: 220 calories; 0 grams of fat

whole milk: 150 calories; 8 grams of fat

baby carrots: 18 calories; 0 grams of fat

Duncan Hines Family Style Brownie Chewy Fudge: 270 calories; 14 grams of fat

Little Debbie Zebra Cake: 160 calories; 8 grams of fat

Muscle Milk Protein Shake: 240 calories; 9 grams of fat

Totals: 1,589 calories and 59 grams of fat

In two months of eating this stuff, he lost 27 pounds and his body mass and other health indicators changed for the good, not for the worse as the nutritionist had hoped.

"I wish I could say the outcomes are unhealthy. I wish I could say it's healthy. I'm not confident enough in doing that. That frustrates a lot of people. One side says it's irresponsible. It is unhealthy, but the data doesn't say that."

I'm a person who believes in numbers and numbers don't lie. So now you have scientific data to back up your junk food diet. Bon appetit!

The Real Thing - repost from January 2008 and update

My husband gave me this book for Christmas. He is an enabler. This is like giving a drug addict a pharmacy reference manual.

I am a Coke addict. If there were a CCA (Coca Cola Anonymous) group, I'd be a lifetime member.

I've tried to quit numerous times, several times for as long as a year, and did it cold turkey during both my pregnancies. But then I'll get an urge for just one sip... and oh, how I love that first burn in the throat!

The one sip satisfies me for that day, but by the next day I'm thinking that one of those mini 8 oz cans wouldn't hurt. It's only 100 calories and it's not nearly as good as a bubbly Coke directly from the soda fountain from the convenience store, so I won't have a craving after I drink the 8 ounces, and I'll just cut back on bread today to balance the additional calories, and my how good that tastes even if it does come from a can.

By the end of two weeks, I am now drinking an 8 oz can with breakfast and a 20 oz cupful from the convenience store for an afternoon jolt. By the end of the month, the daily fix is two 20 oz drinks from the convenience store. Couple of months go by and now its a twice daily fix of 32 oz drinks. But I am proud of myself that I have never stooped to buying one of those 48 oz big guzzlers. OK, the real reason is I sip my Coke and it would taste flat by the time I finished one of those monstrosities. It's all about the carbonic acid, you know.

After approximately 9-12 months and fifteen additional pounds, the entire cycle starts reversing itself. It comes from me being too cheap to buy a whole new wardrobe. So you see, you can gauge where I am on the Coke cycle by the size of my butt.

I blame the addiction on my childhood when super cold 8 oz green bottles of Coke were dispensed in red freezer chest-like coolers. You inserted your money, then dragged the bottle through a metal maze to a large opening where you pulled out the bottle, dripping with condensation, popped the cap on the built-in opener, and took a swig on a hot summer day. There was nothing better than the burn of that first sip.

Change to Diet Coke, you say. My body doesn't tolerate aspartame or any other fake sugar. Besides, Coke prides itself on being The Real Thing. Diet Coke isn't real and I'm a realist by nature.

I have decided that I am allowed at least one vice in my otherwise perfect life and drinking Coke is it. Since I am not a coffee drinker, I reason it is no worse than someone having a latte and doughnut. Therefore as long as my body isn't suffering any ill effects and it hasn't so far, I'm sticking to the bubbly brown burn over ice.

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I reposted the above because if I get a bit surly in the coming weeks, it's because I'm on the wagon. The butt gauge has told me it's time to wean off  the brown stuff, and I'm off to self-regulated rehab.

The good news is if I rid myself once and for all of this one vice of mine, I will be totally perfect.

Er... at least.without vices.

Rambling randomness

I've never understood why casseroles are so popular in the United States.  This one contains ground beef, green beans, tator tots, cheese and the requisite can of soup.  This is an exception to the proverbial "rose by any other name."  If you called this slop, no one would eat it.  Call it a casserole and it's a family favorite.  Fortunately not my family.  Perhaps I'm a snob, but I'd much prefer a hamburger steak, steamed green beans, and a baked potato with a small wedge of cheese (forget the soup) than this concoction. It would be a much more appetizing presentation and would not require much additional labor.

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Quote seen on Facebook Sunday:  "Tomorrow is the beginning of the second US Civil War."  People are not at all pleased with the health care bill.  Even if there is no second civil war, I think some politicians who voted yes will be in the unemployment lines after the next election.

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I don't condone the N-word, but in the 1960's Rep. John Lewis was a protester angry at people in power, so why is he intolerant of protesters who are angry at  him now that he's the one with the power ?

**********

I"m now watching Season 2 of "Damages." I think I enjoy this series so much because most of the evil, conniving people are baby boomers: Glen Close, William Hurt, Ted Danson, Michael Nouri and Marcia Gay Harden. Ok, I'm really watching it because of William Hurt, the star of all my early adulthood fantasies.

Unfortunately, he's put on some weight and hasn't aged well, but I still think he's a great actor, especially when portraying a brooding, soft spoken intellectual.

By the way, Happy 60th Birthday, Bill (March 20, 1950).

It can be nasty, but I still go out to eat

I am sometimes a bit obsessed with food. I like good food, sometimes on the gourmet side, but most often it comes down to just being picky about fresh, wholesome, and unadulterated things that have been prepared and served properly.

One bout with food poisoning a number of years ago yielded subsequent years of cautionary noshing and a mistrust of people's kitchens. When a meal causes one's body to hurl feces and vomit simultaneously every 15 minutes for over 36 hours, along with the feeling of the devil driving a spike through the center of one's body, one just doesn't forget - ever. Follow that initial day with another day of dry heaves, and another week of gagging at the very thought of food, all the while having no energy to get up off the bathroom floor...well, you get the drift. And yeah, I should have gone to the hospital, but I'm tough and it was quick weight-loss method.

So now I avoid potlucks and homemade baked sales like the plague. In a previous job, I visited many homes (by appointment, too) and what I saw in some private kitchens would shut down any public restaurant.

Nothing say homemade more than preparing dinner on a counter where the cat's ass had been just seconds before.

I once took a food sanitation course to get a license as a food service manager. I scored 100% on the state exam because I was totally committed to safety. At the end of that course, our class visited an area restaurant and we were allowed to test various areas of the kitchen to see if it met standards. Based on what we found, I could not believe the restaurant actually volunteered for this activity. I went straight to the meat, destined to be placed on pizzas. The temperature of the sausage was 71 degrees. I guess that just made for quicker cooking time in the oven. By the way, that establishment is no longer in business.

We have all heard stories of food service workings spitting or flicking boogers in customers' food or dropping food on the floor and re-plating it. Generally, though, this is in retaliation to an obnoxious, over-bearing, smart-ass patron.

I rarely go to buffets, but when I do, I use the following rule: serving spoons and eating utensils - right hand; finger foods - left hand; and go always early, before the animals get there. You know, the ones who wipe their noses or cough in their hands and then pick up the next serving spoon. Or the lady who can't quite reach the food in back and allows her boobs to nest in the salad bowl. Or the kid who sticks his finger in a dish, licks it, and then goes on to the next dish and does the same while mommy laughs at how cute he is.

My latest restaurant observation was a woman who, as she walked by a set table with napkins placed over the flatware, accidentally brushed one of the napkins to the floor with her purse. Ever so politely, she picked it up off the floor and placed it back over the flatware for the next unsuspecting customer. And there was the guy who brought his dirty plate when he went back to the buffet for seconds, put some food on it, then decided he wasn't that hungry after all, and scraped the food off the used plate - back into the serving container for someone else to enjoy.

I've come to the conclusion that eating in a restaurant is still probably pretty safe, until the customers arrive and screw everything up.

Yum, yum, very good?

In the never-ending battle of fast food franchises, the key strategy is coming up with new sandwiches that appeal to the high fat demand of the American appetite.

The latest research has created the KFC Double Down. Who needs carbs when you can use two deep fried chicken breasts for the bun? And for filling - what red blooded overweight American could resist two pieces of bacon sandwiched between slices of melted pepper-jack and and swiss cheese? Not to be outdone by McDonald's Big Mac, KFC then finishes off the creation with their own "Colonel's Sauce."

They are test marketing this in Rhode Island at a cost of $6.99 with fries and drink.

Estimated calories is over 1200, which is nearly my entire daily caloric intake.

(Photo courtesy of foodgeekery.com who brought this to world attention)

The Real Thing

My husband gave me this book for Christmas. He is an enabler. This is like giving a drug addict a pharmacy reference manual.

I am a Coke addict. If there were a CCA (Coca Cola Anonymous) group, I'd be a lifetime member.

I've tried to quit numerous times, several times for as long as a year, and did it cold turkey during both my pregnancies. But then I'll get an urge for just one sip... and oh, how I love that first burn in the throat!

The one sip satisfies me for that day, but by the next day I'm thinking that one of those mini 8 oz cans wouldn't hurt. It's only 150 calories and it's not nearly as good as a bubbly Coke directly from the soda fountain from the convenience store, so I won't have a craving after I drink the 8 ounces, and I'll just cut back on bread today to balance the additional calories, and my how good that tastes even if it does come from a can.

By the end of two weeks, I am now drinking an 8 oz can with breakfast and a 20 oz cupful from the convenience store for an afternoon jolt. By the end of the month, the daily fix is two 20 oz drinks from the convenience store. Couple of months go by and now its a twice daily fix of 32 oz drinks. But I am proud of myself that I have never stooped to buying one of those 48 oz big guzzlers. OK, the real reason is that I sip my Coke and it would taste flat by the time I finished one of those monstrosities. It's all about the carbonic acid, you know.

After approximately 9-12 months and fifteen additional pounds, the entire cycle starts reversing itself. It comes from me being too cheap to buy a whole new wardrobe. So you see, you can gauge where I am on the Coke cycle by the size of my butt.

I blame the addiction on my childhood when super cold 8 oz green bottles of Coke were dispensed in red freezer chest-like coolers. You inserted your money, then dragged the bottle through a metal maze to a large opening where you pulled out the bottle, dripping with condensation, popped the cap on the built-in opener, and took a swig on a hot summer day. There was nothing better than the burn of that first sip.

Change to Diet Coke, you say. My body doesn't tolerate aspartame or any other fake sugar. Besides, Coke prides itself on being The Real Thing. Diet Coke isn't real and I'm a realist by nature.

I have decided that I am allowed at least one vice in my otherwise perfect life and drinking Coke is it. Since I am not a coffee drinker, I reason it is no worse than someone having a latte and doughnut. So as long as my body isn't suffering any ill effects and it hasn't so far, I'm sticking to the bubbly brown burn over ice.