Butter-laden dishes at AOC last week reminded me of a big upside of in-home eating: fewer calories. Though I'm definitely not a low-calorie or low-fat cook -- nor do I exercise regularly like I should -- I love my veggies, I take pleasant strolls, and chase my active toddler around. I also don't obsess about food intake like I used to through my twenties, which is good for the soul.
So combined with fewer restaurant meals, most of my clothes look better on me than they used to, and I can wear slimmer pants, making jeans shopping a dangerously tempting proposition. Part of it must be in the genes; my sister also experienced this sort of bizarre postpartum weight loss fluke. (I'm also still relatively young. Right? Right?!)
Today the Times points to some dangers of chronicling food and all things gustatory that's a good reality check. After all, my cholesterol levels still give me cause for concern.
My Grandma Pearl, a very wise woman who loved food, used to say "always leave the table half full." More often easier said than done. Now it's time for a couple small bites of the bread pudding H brought me from Angeli.