Tuesday, February 24, 2009
So I’m giving up french fries for Lent.
Don’t laugh, this is serious.
I’m a horrible Catholic. I go to church when I feel like it (maybe once every 4 years); swear like a trucker; get pissy on Sunday when I run out of booze and can’t buy any (Georgia is a dry state on Sundays); haven’t been to confession in 20 years; and I got married not in a church but on a boat. By the boat captain. Much to my mother’s dismay.
But I still consider myself a Catholic and feel like I ought to participate in some of the rituals, like giving up something for Lent. And it has to be really good, something that the absence of will upset me on more than one occasion, something that will make me lament and woe-is-me to nobody in particular. Of course, I could have given up swearing and drinking, but lets be real here. I do have my priorities.
This decision to give up fries also came about because I had them not once, not twice, but 5 times last week. I also had pizza twice, and this, my friends, is a big fat no-no. I’m going to a family gathering in a month, and even though I look and feel pretty good, I’m trying to mentally prepare for the onslaught of Mothra’s insults. Frankly, I don’t need to be eating so many fries and so much pizza anyway. I ended the week feeling ridiculously bloated and lethargic.
I read something a few months ago (and for the life of me can’t remember where I read it) about a woman who decided to only eat fries that were well-made fries. I thought this was a good idea, so I tried it for a while. This meant no fast food fries, no thick undercooked/undersalted fries from the greasy spoon on the ground floor of my office building, not even any oven fries straight from the frozen food aisle at the grocery store. None of these satisfy me or make me feel better once eating them anyway. The only fries that make me feel good are the skinny frites type, fried twice (once on low and the last, quick fry on high temp). But herein lies the problem. Those were the ones I had five times last week. By the fifth time, they didn’t even appeal to me anymore. So I decided to give them up for a week or so; and last night when I looked at the calendar and realized that today was Mardi Gras, that’s when I made my decision to give them up for Lent altogether.
A decision I’m sure to moan and groan about in a couple of weeks when I end up someplace where the fries will come out of the kitchen stacked tall, super skinny, and perfectly crispy and salty.
My waistline might thank me too. I hope.
above photo of steak frites was taken one night in 2007