Not that you asked, but I had a pretty exciting Restaurant Weekend scheduled last Saturday and Sunday.
To celebrate my daughter Jill visiting from Nashville, the family ate pizza at Turroni’s in Evansville on Saturday. Man, I love that pie.
On Sunday, we ate breakfast at Cracker Barrel here. I do not see how anyone resists that place. Apparently, nobody does because the lines are long.
The food tastes great and they give you so much. It’s like every order comes with a three-plate minimum, and mine wasn’t even a sampler. It was just a regular order, costing about $8.
Three pancakes arrived on Plate No. 1, joined by a little bottle of maple syrup. Yum. I almost drank it straight.
Two eggs, sunny side up, came on Plate No. 2, with three bacon strips forming a smiley face.
Plate No. 3 had biscuits and gravy.
Yowza. What a great day-starter.
Oddly enough, I didn’t leave the place on a stretcher. I was full, but not bloated, the sure sign of overeating. Still, that pretty much took care of my food intake for the day.
I know dieticians tell us we eat too much food at one sitting these days, and it’s wiser to eat about half as much, and that big restaurant portions are baaaad, very baaaad.
OK, most of the week, I’m counting calories, limiting fat grams and passing up fast food. But last weekend, I surrendered and ate to my heart’s content.
Then on Monday, something crazy happened. It’s like I couldn’t stop eating. My Restaurant Weekend began eating into my workweek routine.
At lunchtime, I reheated Turroni’s pizza from Saturday’s take-home box. It didn’t make a dent.
There were only two leftover pieces and they were small squares, like “fun size,” not the New Yorker, fold-over size.
I looked for more food and found a hot dog in the refrigerator. The dreaded hot dog with all its fat and salt. The heart buster.
I boiled it, threw it on a bun and added mustard, relish and celery salt, making it about half of a true Chicago Dog. (FYI, a full Chicago Dog includes a poppy seed bun, tomatoes, a pickle slice and hot peppers).
Somehow, I was still hungry, so I tossed back a small salad before heading back to work.
Maybe my body stored three days worth of meals, like a camel storing water, but I pretty much haven’t eaten since, except for a little soup.
If you don’t see my byline in the paper for the next few weeks, you’ll know this episode didn’t turn out well.