Emergen-C Isn’t Food
I have a very poor sense of portions and what’s normal, which is why I’ll never be wispy. I hate depravation. This morning I finally got around to skimming this week’s New York and became fixated on a few industry types’ eating diaries during Fashion Week (I was on the toilet while reading this, mind you, it was number one not number two. There was just something appropriate about expelling waste while reading such crap).
I was kind of appalled by the Elle editor’s regimen, but then I was like well, maybe that’s typical. I don’t really know, that’s not my world (though even the model ate some onion rings and rice krispie treat), I guess that’s how you stay thin. But only eating two ounces of ceviche (and knowing that you’d consumed two ounces) completely creeped me out.
I eat ceviche when I’m trying to be restrained and it’s lime-marinated fish instead of something fried, breaded or starchy. Like last night I was at Sofrito and skipped empanadas (which I might normally lean towards but I’d already eaten half a Margon cubano for lunch) in lieu of octopus salad. But I know I downed more than two ounces of the chopped cephalopod and I wasn’t bothered in the least. I proceeded to drink four glasses of Pinot Noir and then I cared even less.
So, I was very relieved when this afternoon I noticed Gawker and Gothamist had both called out this woman’s minimalist approach to dining. I can’t believe I’m relying on blogs as a window onto acceptable eating habits. Ok, so this style of eating is weird?
I actually do record (almost) everything I eat and drink because I’m one of those nasty point counters. Today was atypical because I stayed at home (since I start a new job Monday I thought I’d take off Thursday and Friday and be lazy and take care of odds and ends around the apt.) and I eat differently than if I was in an office. But so far I’ve had the other half of my leftover cubano from yesterday (I swear, it wasn’t as huge as a standard style Cuban sandwich so I didn’t feel so bad), ¼ cup white rice topped with chile radish, a handful of wasabi peas, two corn tortillas with a couple avocado and tomato slices and lots of black coffee and water. I guess I would call that a day if I were in the fashion industry but it’s only 6pm.
Around 9pm I’ll make Chairman Mao’s Red-Braised Pork (using ribs instead of belly) the cover star from my new Hunan cookbook and eat that with more white rice and leftover black bean chile Chinese broccoli from Tuesday night, while watching DVR’d Ugly Betty and The Office. And believe it or not, if I keep the pork to about six ounces I’m still within my point limit (I spent an hour on an elliptical trainer and lifted a few free weights so I could eat fatty pork). So there. If I’m lucky I’ll shed .25 pounds this week. No, the pound a month approach isn’t ideal.
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At work we were trying to find historic turkey prices and I was moderately surprised by the statistics coming from the 
, it’s still baffling to me that 2006 has become the year of the “professional” food blog. Rather than exciting, I find it exhausting. Sure, it’s fun to poke around all of mainstream latecomers for different perspectives but there are only so many hours in my already oversaturated day. Plenty tends to make me tired rather than invigorated (though yesterday I was incredibly irritated by Jose Cuervo gold being the only tequila choice at the liquor store next to Costco. 1,000 mezcals would’ve been overwhelming but one is ridiculous. Costco was also out of frozen scallops and chicken wings. I was cruelly reminded why we food shop in NJ despite the outrageous $9 Verrazano Bridge toll). 
