April and Sarah Go on a Diet: Mythical Nourishment and Mortal Imaginations

March 24, 2010 at 9:04 am | Posted in Around Boston, In The Kitchen | 4 Comments
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Other than hallucinations, crumb cravings and oat incidents, April and I have weathered our new “healthy eating plan” well, and have made it through week four without seriously injuring anyone.


During these long, calorie-deprived weeks, I’m fairly certain that our sense of smell has become much keener. Take, for example, our commute home yesterday: as we speed-walked (sped-walked? That can’t be right!) past the Domino’s in Boston’s West End, the scent of pizza wafted into our noses. We nearly stopped (pedestrian) traffic as we came to a screeching halt in front of the pizzeria… And yes, my boot CAN make screeching halts. The aroma of freshly baked dough tickled our noses as the sweet yet slightly acidic tomato sauce and salty, oily scent of melting cheese tantalized us. We gazed longingly toward the pizza shop that, just two months ago during P.D. (Pre-Diet, as that era is called), wouldn’t have given us pause, and wondered if heaven might smell just like that.

As we continued our commute, my erudite friend and I began discussing Ambrosia, sustenance of the Greek gods (and we may also have discussed the more plebeian version of ambrosia – the coconut, fruit cocktail and marshmallow “salad” that April craved when she was preggers but which turns my stomach… That’s not the point… You know how we get distracted… Focus, dear reader(s)).

We may even have expressed our hope that heaven includes an all you can eat gourmet cafeteria that specializes in pizza, chocolate cake, honey roasted peanut butter, milk shakes, nachos, ice cream, beer, cookies, spiced nuts, etc. (Are you there G-d? It’s me, Booty).

Anyway, the heightened sense of smell sounds like a delightful bonus to our slightly more svelte figures, right? Unfortunately our super-sensitive shmekkers also pick up the unpleasant scents, too. For example, walking through a certain neighborhood that shall be left unnamed (but rhymes with seekin’ thrill), we are occasionally accosted by a scent that can only be described as “fish diapers.” Yes, if baby fish ate other fish and wore diapers, that’s what it would smell like on garbage day on seekin’ thrill. Which seems to occur more than once a week. Shudder.

At least the fish diaper smell curbs our appetites!

Here’s to continued success – and nose plugs – in the D.D. (during diet) era!


April & Sarah Go On A Diet: The Spaghetti Sauce Chronicles

February 23, 2010 at 11:20 am | Posted in In The Kitchen | 8 Comments
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That’s right. Sarah and I are on diets. It’s out in the open. I’m ready to kiss my double chin and empty baby gut goodbye, while Sarah wants to present Andrew with a little less to love on her wedding day.

Dieting is hard. We love food. We love snacking, elevensies and train feast. Thus the diets.

We made it through Day One with only minor hiccups. We did spend 23 minutes deliberating over the most nutritionally optimal afternoon snack, culminating in my declaration that the food industry hates people who want to better themselves. I settled for oats and honey granola bars.

The rest of the day was uneventful. Until our walk home, when I told Sarah about my need to be able to write things down when I’m in the shower (more on that later). Sarah said she had a solution, and I responded: “Spaghetti sauce?” Because I honestly believed she was going to tell me to write on the shower tiles with spaghetti sauce. It made perfect sense at the time in my calorie-deprived state. And it still does.

I might not survive.


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