First, let’s talk about em. Rathbone’s fries, AKA #crackfries. I call them this because if I ever had a crack addiction, this is what I would imagine it would feel like. I stick to the plan all week just so I can treat myself to these suckers on Thursdays. They are perfect. I haven’t hit up a fast food chain in probably around a year but I remember McDonald’s amazingness in the fry department, and these blow them out of the water. I justify this indulgence because it’s always when I’m at work, where I am either waitressing or bartending and running around burning insane amounts of calories.
Anyway, I asked the kitchen for a small plate of papas fritas. I’m talking our tiniest plate in the joint. They should know the deal by now, yet THIS is what I was presented with.
Goddamn! These Mexicans are worse than my Italian grandma trying to force-feed me at Sunday dinner.
By the way, this is our normal portion for a plate of fries at the bar. This strikes me as funny, yet also SCARY. Portions in this country are so damn out control! Greedy, gluttonous Americans we are. To add to that, I have a serious problem with dining out. The portions are often entirely too big, and I am not the person with the discipline to throw in the towel..I need to eat every little morsel off of that plate. I’m not kidding. I am the worst date ever..chatty Kathy until the food shows up and then SHUSH – you don’t exist – only the meal in front of me does. Tosca Reno says that when we eat out, we should doggy bag half our food immediately upon receiving it to prevent ourselves from housing the whole thing. Great idea in theory, but do we really want to mess up our overpriced dinner entrée right off the bat? (avg dinner entrée in NYC about $25) I’m still trying to work out a way to NOT eat the entire plate. We are out to dinner with friends, eating, talking, eating, and then WOOPS I just ate a dish of food big enough for Family style at Carmine’s. This is what happened to me with those fries (with help of a coworker). Those things were GONE and then I got all pissed at the cooks thinking it’s their fault. It’s not their fault; they know I love those damn fries so they were trying to hook me up. It’s my fault because I stood there gobbling them without taking a breath. I felt full for the next 4 hours even with all the running around. Not OK.
I think that since I’m not willing to doggy bag half my food right off the bat, or let anything go to waste, the only other option is to eat SLOW and listen to my body. It takes 20 minutes for our food to digest and for us to start to feel full. Therefore if I eat slowly, learn to engage in conversation on a date (ha!), and am able to save half my food at the end of it, well, what a win that is! So from now on I’ll eat my fries slowly and bask in their deliciousness. Although..after that experience I may have finally kicked my crackfries habit