Austerity, Day 1

I had a wonderful weekend.  G and I took a little girls' trip down to Houston.  S was booked all weekend with band trips, and T was still working on our new, architecturally-rendered (if by architecturally rendered you mean using the free Google app to design and measure and then pretty much making it up from there) shed, so I thought I'd go see my mom, who I haven't seen since June (!), and dad.

Any trip to see my parents necessarily involves the ingestion of a fair amount of alcohol.  Usually because we're enjoying each other's company.  Occasionally because we're driving each other crazy.  Regardless, my people come from a long line of people who enjoy a glass of the grape. Or the barley.  Or potato.  Or juniper.  Or whatever, really.  And we're really good at it.  Because we practice.

Anyway, I had an absolutely super time with my folks, saw some great, old friends from high school.  And ate.  Ate at all my favorite Houston places that I don't ever get to go to anymore. Ate road food on the way home. And I ate all the things I never let myself eat anymore, project-wise and health-wise. And that's when the party was over.  Because, today . . .

I. Feel. Like. Shit.

I can't do it.  I can't eat like that for three whole days, and I certainly can't drink like that.  So, since we've already delved into fiscal austerity, I've decided to take the plunge into nutritional austerity.  It's like my very own episode of Hoarders or Intervention.  Except I'm not saving others.  I'm saving myself.  Well, that, and I have no tattoos and all my teeth, but otherwise, just like that.  No alcohol.  No carbonation.  No nighttime gluten.  Seven days.

Pray for me.

Myth Busters

Okay.  So, I cheated.  I bought unsanctioned food from a restaurant yesterday.  My head hangs in shame.  Here is my story.

Hi.  My name is Mama O.  

Hi, Mama O.

I'm a roll-a-holic.

It's okay.

No, it's really not.  You see, I used to work right across the street from this magical place called Golden Chick.  And Golden Chick was the place where you went when your students were mean to you.  Or when you had a bad day.  Or when you had a good day.  Or when it was Fuzzy Friday.  Or really, any day.  

What did they have there?

Golden Chick had yummy, fried tenders.  They had creamy, peppered white gravy.  And they had yeast rolls.  Yeast rolls that were better than any white-flour carb you ever put in your mouth.  And they were brushed in butter.  No, not butter, but some kind of even better fake oil/butter hybrid that got all over your fingers and never went away no matter how often you washed your hands.  They were like crack.  I would stop by on the way home from work and get a large diet coke and two rolls.  Sad.  Sad.  Sad.  All I can say is that on the eighth day, God created Golden Chick. And it was good.

So, what happened?

I wish I could say that I just gave it up because it was not good for me.  But I didn't.  First, I quit working across the street.  This was sad, but I still had friends there, so I would drop by for a tender snack from time to time (2 tenders, sub the fries for an extra roll, and a large diet coke).  Then, they switched to Pepsi.  This was the first sign of Satan in the garden.  

So, you stopped going?

I did.  Our family was on the project.  I wasn't working.  There was just no reason to go.

Then, why are you here?

This afternoon, I was so tired.  I've started running again, and I go at 5:15 in the morning, which makes you tired.  And when I'm really tired, I want yeast rolls.  No, I didn't actually run today, but who's counting?  I was headed to the girls' tennis meet in Wimberley, a town nearby, the turnoff for which is dangerously close to Golden Chick.  I tried to resist, but I needed a notebook.

They have notebooks at Golden Chick?

No, they have notebooks at the Dollar General, which shares a parking lot with Golden Chick.  So, you see, it wasn't my fault.

It wasn't your fault that you drove through the parking lot to Golden Chick, ordered a roll and a large iced tea, paid for the roll, what?  Two rolls?  Took them from the cashier and pulled out of the parking lot with your yeasty, greasy booty?

Huh, when you say it that way, it sounds much worse.  But here's the good news.  They weren't very good.  Yes, they were still hot and really greasy, but somehow they didn't live up to the memory of them.  I had built them up so high because they really did make me feel better when things were tough (emotional eating could take up three more years of therapy, but I'll leave that for another time). This time, they tasted fake and overly salty.  Could the quality have dipped?  Sure.  Could I have attributed powers to those rolls that they didn't actually have?  Maybe.  But I realized that maybe this project is slowly retraining my tastebuds not to need fast food.  And maybe it's okay for a yeast roll not to have to be my savior anymore.

So, did you eat them all anyway?

Fuck off.

Mutiny

G this morning had a total meltdown when she asked when the project was over.  For whatever reason (a/k/a I didn't tell them because it would cause unnecessary pain), she wasn't aware that the project is intended to be 11 months long.  She asked how long we've been on it.  I said 95 days.  She said it seems like much longer, and I told her that it just seems like it (a/k/a I wasn't going to count the 3 month trial we did last fall).  But then T reminded her that we had done the trial last fall (thanks) to which I replied, "we sure did the trial last fall and then for the next 40 days, we ate out about 30 times."  And I'm not exaggerating.  Clearly, we didn't stay on the project long enough to change our bad habits.  Hence, the almost-a-year without unnecessary restaurant eating.

And hence the meltdown.  G said that she thinks about restaurant food all time, and she gets jealous of all her friends who get to eat fast food all the time.  I am so very proud of myself that I chose not to point out that that wasn't really something to be jealous about and that it's a pretty first-world problem to have.  Golf clap.  I am an excellent mother and not just because I chose not to pick an even bigger fight.  And then I said that in two months, when she can drive, she can go buy an over-priced, unhealthy meal everyday if she wanted to.  In a loud, judge-y, shrew-like voice, dripping with irony and filled with disappointment at her failing me.  In short, exactly what works with almost-16-year-olds.  Um, you can cancel that Best Mom Ever plaque.


Once she had left for school, T and I discussed the meltdown, and he, very astutely, said that it's about control.  And isn't it always?  Being about the most controlling person IN THE WORLD, I should have seen that coming.  And yes, this project is about controlling what we eat and how much we spend.  And yes, as the only cook in the family, I am pretty much the Idi Amin of our kitchen (although I do take requests).  But it's still control that I have and she doesn't.  Lifestyle change clearly doesn't come easy.  In fact, it sucks.


So then, I began to ask myself, am I really doing the right thing by legislating everything they are eating for an entire year?  Or am I creating food issues that didn't exist before?  As a kid with weight issues who grew up into an adult with weight issues, it's hard to find the line between educating your kids about diet and exercise and just pissing them off, pushing them to eat just to get back at you.  And I still don't know where that line is.   


But I do know this.  When I picked G up from school today, I offered to take her to the new (okay, now, not so new) Schlotzsky's that all the kids were talking about and making her jealous.  And I was seriously okay for her to go, even if it meant having to own up to it here.  I almost wanted her to say yes because I wondered if the sandwich in her head really would match the reality.  But she turned me down.  She said she really didn't want it now.  She just wants to be off the project.  She wants to be able to have fast food once in a while.  But she also said that we aren't very good at once in a while.  So, she thinks she can wait.  She's very focused on our beach trip.  Only 30 more days.  And I may let her choose where we go for Mother's Day.


I love that kid.

I'm Getting There. Locally.

All the way home from my errands and Costco, all I could think about was Mighty Fine Burgers.  There is a specific taste and smell to the entire place, just the right size burger, no cheese required, crispy crinkle fries, salt and pepper on the tables.  Now, even the quickest glance at the QC will tell you that we have hamburgers quite often here at Casa O - they're easy, they're quick, they're tasty.  And with the lean beef or ground sirloin, not all that bad for you.  But they never quite measure up to Mighty Fine. So, what is the magic to eating out?

I don't know the answer to that question, but it pervades.  G was telling me last week that she dreams about eating out in class.  When I asked her what restaurant she dreams about, she said, "all of them.  I think about it all the time.  Texican, Dan's, Maudies, Taco Cabana.  I spend whole classes thinking about it."  Now, she's the one that wasn't going to be in love with the idea of the project from the get-go, but I have to say that even I can kind of get what she's saying.

Because fast food/restaurant food is absolutely pervasive.  On my circle trip of errands while the kids are in tutoring, I pass the following:

Taco Bell
Chipotle
Mama Fu's Chinese
Subway
Schlotzsky's
Mighty Fine Burgers
Carino's
River City Coffee and Bakery
Zen Japanese
Longhorn Steakhouse
BJ's Brewhouse
Doc's Backyard
Which Wich (I think)
Dickey's BBQ
Wendy's
Serrano's Mexican
Potbelly Sandwiches
Mandola's Italian kitchen
Taco Cabana
Wings To Go
Chuy's Mexican
Cheddar's
Firehouse Subs
Kerbey Lane
P Terry's
And that's just the ones I can think of right now.

All of these are located on the maybe two mile loop.   And they were mostly all busy, or at least occupied to some degree.  This business makes money, and a lot of it.  It also, to be fair, employs a lot of people.   Here's the reality, according to the restaurant industry themselves:

2012 RESTAURANT INDUSTRY OVERVIEW

• Sales: $632 billion
• Locations: 970,000
• Employees: 12.9 million — one of the largest private-sector employers
• Restaurant-industry share of the food dollar: 48%

TOP TEN FACTS IN 2012

• $1.7 billion: Restaurant-industry sales on a typical day in 2012.
• 1.4 million: Number of positions the restaurant industry will add in the next decade.
• Restaurant-industry job growth has outpaced the national economy in 12 consecutive years, from 2000 through 2011.
• 93%: Percentage of eating-and-drinking place businesses that have fewer than 50 employees.
• 7 out of 10 eating-and-drinking place establishments are single-unit operations.
• 66% of adults say their favorite restaurant foods provide flavor and taste sensations which cannot easily be duplicated in their home kitchen.
• One-half of all adults have worked in the restaurant industry at some point in their lives, and one-third got their first job experience in a restaurant.
• 80% of restaurant owners said their first job in the restaurant industry as an entry-level position.
• $2,505: Average household expenditure on food away from home in 2010.
• 38%: Percent of adults who said they would be likely to utilize a smartphone app if it was offered by a quickservice restaurant.

Get more details in our 2012 Restaurant Industry Forecast.

Source:  http://www.restaurant.org/research/facts/ (highlighting is mine)

All that food, with all that salt, all those calories, all those preservatives, or not, as far as you know.  I'm not sure if it's a plus or a drawback that you don't know what's going into your food when you eat out.  And maybe people don't care.   If that many people think they can't replicate the taste at home, maybe that's a tradeoff that they're willing to make.  And how can you not think about outside food when you're bombarded with it all the time?

And I'll be honest, I almost packed it in today.  Not for any real reason other than I really, really wanted an over salted, over greasy, over large meal.  But I didn't do it.  Mostly because today was LOCAL DAY!  Well, that, and I'd already made dinner.

Okay, there's no such thing as local day.  I made that up.  But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't kick some locavore ass today.  I started the day with R. at the market day at Boggy Creek Farm where there was chard!  And eggs!  And spring onions!  And little, bitty, baby squashes!   There's only one thing you can do with that:  Quiche!  Squash and onions!

Other than the whole wheat pie crusts from Central Market and the low sodium bacon and parmesan from the Costco, everything in our dinner tonight was local.  The eggs were from JFTB's sister's chicken, the leeks from the farm box and the chard from Boggy Creek.  Our veg was tiny baby zucchini and yellow squash and spring onions sauteed in olive oil.  We did have some multigrain toast from the La Brea bakery, but that's usually a breakfast item, so I'm letting it ride.

T. was home, and we actually sat around the table, all four of us, and ate our local meal at our local home.  And it was wonderful.  But does that mean I'm not going to miss the Mighty Fine?

No, it does not.

Dammit.