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Posts from the ‘Small Tragedies’ Category

Jun 16

Denim Shorts, You Com-Pleat Me

Highshorts
There was a time, oh say, two-and-a-half years ago when I was pointlessly outraged at the return of leggings. And yet I’m wearing a pair this very second. Apparently, some horrible fashions have ways of worming their way into our lives.

These high-waisted, pleated and bulging at the hip denim shorts are not one of them. Yes, I realize these are intended for young ladies, which I am not. But could any female, even one with the figure of a 10-year-old boy really pull these off? This pair is also quite frightening, especially if you even had the slightest hint of a paunch.

Who knows, though. Check back on me in 2010 and I could quite possibly be wearing the most stonewashed, pleated, high-waisted shorts you’ve ever seen. Um, but they'll probably come from Silhouettes or something.

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Apr 2

Remind Me, Why do Goldfish Need to Wear Sunglasses?

Pepperidgefarmgoldfish
Pepperidge Farm Partners With Natural Food Chef, Bethenny Frankel, To Debut Baked Naturals Crackers and Encourage People to Take Back the Snack!

Funny that they don’t mention her current role as the single Real Housewife of New York City who can’t get her boyfriend who already has three children to commit to her and make more babies.

Instead, Pepperidge Farms has played her up as the “break-out star” from a 2005 Martha Stewart Apprentice spot (the gal clearly loves her camera time).

I suspect it’s because it’s hard to sell the concept of  taking back snacks when the woman subsists on lychee martinis and air. I keep waiting for her to eat something, one little nibble—she’s a “healthy foodie,” right? But no, just cocktails.

On last night’s episode Bethanny was bragging about her friend’s restaurant Table 8 in Miami and the whole scene filmed there was her sitting at the bar drinking and getting a lecture about her eggs no longer being fresh (admittedly, someone talking about my eggs like they’re a farm product would make me want to slam a few oranjitas, myself). What’s the use of pals with restaurants if you don’t get free food?

But you seriously think I’m going to read a book called, Gain 25 Thin Thoughts. Lose 25 Heavy Habits and Be: NATURALLY THIN! written by a drunkorexic?

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Mar 25

For Just 5 Cents a Day…

Scroogemcduck

Do you know how long it takes to earn $100 (the minimum amount they’ll cut you a check for) through Google ads? If you’re me: 18 months. Today I finally became rich. I would’ve just gotten rid of the damn ads but it was an experiment. A long, drawn out experiment, for sure.

I could just take them down now and declare the test an unsuccess, but I’m kind of looking forward to that next $100 check…in October 2009.

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Mar 24

Screw You, Too

Some time ago, during a hellish meal at Montreal’s Au Pied de Cochon (service was some of the most sophomoric, assholiest I’ve encountered, which isn’t entirely unusual with restaurants foodies love) James found a screw in his pork chop. At the time we speculated about how it would be reported in a New York Post headline and imagined it would involve the staff having a screw loose.

Well, we finally got our answer thanks to a disgruntled bacon cheeseburger eater in the Bronx: “Wendy’s Got a Screw Loose: Suit”

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Mar 11

Back on the Chain Gang

Mainside
Who knew that it was even possible to blow $300 a pop on Boston Market? Or that you could pay for fast food with checks.  I guess you do what you have to for rotisserie chicken and chipotle meatloaf.

I kind of prefer the sheer idiocy of the Indiana woman who scored $57 worth of Applebee’s food after finding worms in her salad…then left her purse behind with a container of worms. At least it wasn’t a human finger.

Even though I didn’t think it wasn’t true, I was kind of scared by the inexplicable ‘80s urban legend that Wendy’s put worms in their burgers. (To this day, I still believe that Rod Stewart had gallons of antelope semen pumped from his stomach, so these myths are persuasive.) The second I heard chain restaurant and worms in conjunction with the above story, I automatically assumed it was about Wendy’s.

Wendy’s seems to have a lot of trouble. Just off the top of my head I can think of two shooting incidents involving the chain, one recent, one not.

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Mar 8

Browned Out

Brown_sushi

If for some strange reason anyone was curious about brown rice sushi, I’ll save you the trouble. It sucks. I should be avoiding rice in general, sushi rice specifically (it’s sugared, which not everyone seems to know) but I wanted something fishy and Japanese for lunch yesterday. I would’ve been fine with sashimi. Sometimes I prefer sashimi but that seems like something that should be ordered fresh and I only had time for take out not for a sit down meal.

I couldn’t bring myself to take a photo. But as you can see from the borrowed pic (misguidedly titled The Perfect Meal) it looks like poop. (I would much prefer blue sushi.) There were bits of eel and avocado inside, I could see them with my eyes but the heavy, oatmealy rice dominated every bite. Never again.

Oh, and I have to review a restaurant this weekend that serves sushi (as well as Mexican, Cajun and bbq–wtf is right) and I’m not sure what I’ll do. Honestly, I don’t think a few pieces of sushi are going to lead to diabetic foot rot and blindness but I’m trying to be conscientious.

I had no idea that basmati is less glycemic (I hate delving into the world of low glycemic blogs because I think there's a lot of quackery, and fervent regimen followers scare me) than other white rices and almost on par with brown rice. I realize that’s no help for sushi, but from now on if the urge for rice strikes I’ll stick with basmati or the not-terribly-offensive brown jasmine I picked up at Trader Joe’s.

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Mar 4

3 Comments

The Sweet Life

Mom_3Do you know what happens when you dredge up memories of an unwelcome diabetic birthday dessert from more than a decade ago? God gives you diabetes. Seriously.

Considering the alarmingly crappy genes, particularly on my father’s side of the family (in college, my aunt Belia’s foot rotted from diabetes and rather than have it amputated, it festered and she died. The story is funny to me, both ha ha and strange, because it seems so unreal and antiquated for the late 20th century), I just assumed that the disease would eventually catch up with me. I kind of thought I’d at least make it to my forties, though.

What irks me most is that diabetes is viewed as an affliction for fat, stupid people, primarily minorities with the exception of Wilford Brimley. All the literature I was given was illustrated with smiling blacks and Latinos and a list of foods you can still eat at McDonald’s and Wendy’s.

I certainly don’t think I’m special but I don’t need to be told about walking (I’ve been working out 3-4 times a week since the early ‘00s), I haven’t touched a Big Gulp since I was in grade school and I eat Whoppers like never. Of course I do like pork belly, curries, cocktails and dulce de leche and sit in front of a computer all day like total diabetes bait. I just get frustrated because while I have slowly chunked up over the years, I’m not Biggest Loser, gastric bypass obese and the people I see on TV don’t even have high blood pressure or diabetes. What gives?

No longer being able to eat (much) sugar and starch does not fit into my pro-rat year. Not one bit. At least I'm not being made to take any medicine or deal with needles yet. I pretty much need to lose the twenty pounds I've been trying to get rid of for an eternity and see if that does anything. I almost cried when I saw my favorite seasonal treat, green Hostess Sno Balls at CVS last week and had to ignore the beauties, and it bummed me out not to be able to partake in cornball bagel Friday at work.

There’s no way in hell I’m going to start eating boneless, skinless chicken breasts and steamed broccoli seasoned with Mrs. Dash. And I’ll keel over before allowing Splenda into my life. Who knows, though. I always though brown rice was for assholes, and this weekend I was the asshole who asked for brown rice with my Sichuan food and only ate a quarter cup.

I’m still going to eat good food. This site will not turn into Goodies Never, but I don’t feel like there are any online role models for people who like to eat well, adventurously and happen to be diabetic. As far as I can tell there aren’t any. Vegans and the allergic have their place in the food blog world (as well as the inexplicable volume penned by lawyers, ex-lawyers and Asian girls) but it’s not like I want to read about their foibles. Diet talk is too uncomfortably close to Lifetime territory.

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Feb 22

Mickey Finn Meet Ruby Tuesday

Drink_spiking_common Ack, I’m home sick for the second day in a row (I just spent the week entertaining my sister and her husband who were visiting from England. It was all fun and good, despite their vegetarianism, until I caught the creeping crud or whatever virulent bug they brought with them from Europe. As if it wasn’t enough that our dollars are chump change to them. I can barely hear, breathe or swallow and was convinced I had a deadly fever but my temperature is only 97.1. I hate when people say they have fevers and it’s not true so I wanted to make extra sure before declaring one) and have no typing energy.

But I can’t ignore stories involving chain restaurants, especially ones involving Ruby Tuesday, roofies and vigilant waiters named Colt.

Heavens, I don’t want to live in a world where single women with master’s degrees aren’t even safe in family restaurants.

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Feb 22

Mickey Finn Meet Ruby Tuesday

Drink_spiking_common Ack, I’m home sick for the second day in a row (I just spent the week entertaining my sister and her husband who were visiting from England. It was all fun and good, despite their vegetarianism, until I caught the creeping crud or whatever virulent bug they brought with them from Europe. As if it wasn’t enough that our dollars are chump change to them. I can barely hear, breathe or swallow and was convinced I had a deadly fever but my temperature is only 97.1. I hate when people say they have fevers and it’s not true so I wanted to make extra sure before declaring one) and have no typing energy.

But I can’t ignore stories involving chain restaurants, especially ones involving Ruby Tuesday, roofies and vigilant waiters named Colt.

Heavens, I don’t want to live in a world where single women with master’s degrees aren’t even safe in family restaurants.

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Jan 26

Nature’s Candy

Badfruit_2
I love this article, “The Myth of Fruit” from Wednesday’s Guardian. This quote sums up what I’ve thought for some time. And I can get all cranky on the subject and presumably not rile up freaks on the internet, assuming the public is less passionate about fruit than food allergies, their appearances on Jeopardy! and wine bars in Williamsburg (scroll to comments for warm fuzzy fun).

“If you believe the nutrition industry, every week produces some new superfood, often a fruit: blueberries, pomegranates, acai berries. The fact is that fruit consists of water, sugars (normally about 10%), some vitamin C, and some potassium (thought to be good for controlling blood pressure). And that’s kind of it.”

I’ve always hated fruit (though I love vegetables) and feel like it’s a chore to eat. The mandarin oranges (I can’t call them clementines—is this an East Coast thing?) Granny Smiths and bananas I’ve been lugging to work the past few months have been killing me.

Fruit juice feels like a total waste of calories and smoothies seem like a joke. Melon is flat-out disgusting and the only food in the entire universe that I won’t eat (well, there’s malta, but that’s a beverage). Minus melon, I don’t mind tropical fruit every now and then, but that’s all. And maybe my problem is that I was raised on bland grocery store produce, though I doubt it. People are always raving about Honeycrisp apples, but to me an apple is an apple and they’re boring.

If I want sweets, I would rather eat real desserts (poached pears and baked apples will not cut it). Nature just doesn’t make candy; that’s as sad as calling graham crackers cookies.

Bad fruit image from Lunacy Beads

 

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