Growing up, the household’s acquisition of a carton of ice cream meant that after dinner, the container would be divided into four and then savagely devoured by the family. A dozen donuts picked up on the way home were often dealt with the same manner: 3 each, with the possibility of dear old dad nabbing an extra one if you didn’t eat fast enough. Suffice to say, these experiences left dents in my behavioral patterns, and I have carried on in the grand Galbraith tradition of eating far too much, too fast, and too often.
Just the other day I happened upon a 2 for 1 burger special at a local watering hole. My companions lacked the sense to jump on the promise of a half price burger, so I did the sensible thing: I ordered two burgers. And then I ate two burgers. This took place approximately 4 hours before I was scheduled to go out for dinner for my anniversary; my foresight is often obscured by piles of food. Despite conquering the twins, I still managed to stuff a few courses down at dinner time. Afterwards, my stomach didn’t seem angry, but disappointed. I’d feel like a freak if it weren’t for my dear friend/enabler Dave, who happens to be a dietician. Fond memories of Dave at Macdonald’s include watching him defeat a 14 patty big mac. He later managed to beat his own record by another two patties, just because we told him he couldn’t. More recently he hopped on a “poutine” burger, which of course could only be enjoyed with an order of poutine on the side. Together we did our best to take down the $40 heap of meat from Memphis Blues, leaving behind only coleslaw. We’re so North American that it hurts. Literally.
While I’m aware of the immediate consequences, I’ve decided to take a “wait and see” approach when it comes to the long term effects of trying to gras my own foie. My behavior is partially borne of seldom being able to go out for dinner, so when I do manage to get out, I squeeze an extra course in there just in case I can’t make it back before the menu changes. I would rather endure the many symptoms that indicate a need for Pepto Bismol than go home without knowing what something tastes like.
Ultimately, my quest is less for bloat, and more for knowledge. I learn just as much, if not more, by eating as I do by cooking. It’s how i operate. I do, however, understand that the only thing to be learned by eating two burgers in one sitting is that I can indeed eat two burgers in one sitting. I’ll share with you a few things that I’ve learned: foie gras tastes good with honey dips, and fried eggs belong on top of everything. If you’re hesitant to adopt the same “dining” strategies as I have, you should be. It’s a terrible thing that tiptoes the line between over-indulgence and serious problem. I should probably eat some fucking broccoli already, for eating my way into an early grave offers no benefit whatsoever. Gluttony has room for only one martyr, and his name is Elvis.
Your Friendly Neighbourhood Line Cook,
Jacob Galbraith
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Eat healthy – excersise often – die anyway.
Food is the journey – body is the bus.
hahaha admittedly a little behind on your blog, but actually laughed out loud Jake! was recently trying to justify my moderate binge habits with the tales of ice cream splitting and pringles counting. oh those were the days and now i buy my own tub of ice cream :)