Three Squares

Dearest Rachel –

I think I may have quoted it at one Thanksgiving meal or another, but I’d been told of a mealtime grace I understood to be attributed to Oliver Cromwell, but which turns out to be from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: “Many have food but no appetite, while others have appetite but no food. I have both appetite and food; may the Lord be praised.” It’s actually part of a larger quote about recognizing and acting upon the moment (which might leave you recalling a line from Ranma½, from the titular character’s shiftless father: “When you get the chance, eat, then eat some more. You never know when you may have the chance again,” which you tended to apply to bathroom stops on road trips), but that’s neither here nor there.

What is significant today – and is the reason for the title to this particular letter (and yes, it’s sometimes weird to realize that I need to give these letters a title, and a category or two, and a handful of tags in order to classify them – none of which is something either of us had to do when we were writing back and forth, back in the day) – is that today is the first in I don’t know how long that I’ve had three meals in a given day, and that I’ve enjoyed them gratefully, if with a little trepidation, given my attempts to both cut down on meals and exercise.

Actually, to call any of them ‘square’ meals might be stretching the definition. It’s not like I had something in any of them from every brick in the food pyramid or anything like that. Indeed, breakfast was really little more than a couple of the last few donuts from Saturday along with a glass of juice. But considering how many days this year I’ve all but skipped breakfast (and often lunch as well), that’s more than I usually bother with.

Meanwhile, lunch with Lars was at our usual pizza place – it is Tuesday, after all, and they still have the half price deal that we would often assemble the girls to take advantage of back in the day, so how can we pass that up? Besides, this was as close to a square meal as I would get, what with the onions and peppers as the veg (as well as the tomato sauce; or is that a fruit?), the cheese fulfilling the dairy role, and the sausage and pepperoni serving as the meat/protein. I didn’t exercise as much restraint as I have in visits past, either; I pretty much ate what appeared to be ‘my half,’ although on further reflection, the thing was cut tavern-style with five columns and rows, and I devoured the two rows nearest me (for comparison, last time, I stopped at five pieces), so it wasn’t really half. Still, it was about twice what I’d had on our previous visit.

And it was probably more than I should have had, especially since Logan had offered to cook this evening for us. Nothing fancy, but I guess I put a bee in his bonnet when we met the girls on Friday night to check out the falafel place at Woodfield Daniel had been meaning to check out since Christmas Eve (which is a long story in and of itself, but it’s more his than mine to tell, so I’m going to let it go. Quick summary: he was looking for a place to grab a meal while I was working the booth, and decided to find a place that served the mint lemonade we’d enjoyed in Jericho, but it was closed early due to the holiday, and he’d been asking us collectively to check it out ever since, even as it moved from a standalone storefront on Meacham Road to within the Woodfield shopping mall food court). While I wasn’t as impressed with their offerings as some of the others (one thing I don’t care for about Mediterranean food is when they dollop cold items atop a hot bowl of food), they had a garlic spread that was really good, but really potent; a little went a long way. I suggested it would be magnificent if it were spread onto a hamburger bun, and served in lieu of the usual condiments of ketchup and mustard. Logan offered to shop for the fixings on his weekly shopping trip on Sunday, and today (since we’re spoken for on every evening this week – including the slightest hint of possibly getting back together with the girls this Friday as well) was the day he could prepare them for us.

Don’t worry; he also made bratwurst for Daniel, out of respect for his curious dislike of hamburgers. That one trip to In-N-Out three years ago notwithstanding, it seems he’s back to refusing to eat them yet again. Oh, well.

You would think that, with having had lunch but four or five hours previously (and both meals coming after my one period of mild exercise), I wouldn’t be all that keen on Logan’n offering. And yet the olfactory sense are a powerful incentive; while he was preparing it all, I could smell it from the office, and no question, it smelled good enough to eat. And so, eat I did. And I will say, the thoum really did taste good spread on both toasted buns, just to give it added flavor. I had the appetite for it, and could enjoy it all the same, God be praised.

My only concern is that this might well wreck havoc with my attempts to lose weight; after all, these three meals had to have been considerably more than I’ve burnt today. But I’ve come to the conclusion that my attempts at intermittent fasting might be causing my metabolism to dial itself back farther than it should; the squaddies feeding my internal boiler might otherwise conclude “oh, we’re not getting the same quantities of fuel that we used to? Fine, let’s not shovel it all in as fast as we were doing before.” I’m hoping that the occasional day like this will remind them that they don’t need to spare the fuel in order to keep me running, and I’ll continue to burn more when I do hold those short fasting periods. Of course, I may be completely wrong about how my (or anybody’s) metabolism works, and this one day of overfeeding myself may have set me back considerably, but until I see the numbers on the scale, I’m going to tell myself it’s okay for now.

Besides, I enjoyed everything while I was enjoying it, right?

Anyway, I’d best still ask you to keep an eye on me, honey, and wish me luck, as I’m definitely going to still need it.