I must admit, I really do enjoy living Paleo-style.
However, I am not militant about it. One of the wonderful things about getting fit and healthy is that you are better able to enjoy life. And on those occasions when you sample some sweet confection that is not a healthy choice, don’t beat your self up, just don’t repeat it too often.
This past Saturday was the worst I have been in ages and it is extremely ironic how it happened. When at CrossFit Free a couple weeks ago, I sampled some fantastic pulled pork and sweet potato hash, compliments of the Connector Cafe in Lowell. So I suggested to Suzanne that we go there on Saturday afternoon. We got there at 3:30, unaware that they close at 3:00. Ugh!
I don’t know about you, but when I have my heart set on a certain meal and I find the restaurant is closed, or is out of that entree, I go into a food funk. I have experienced every fantasy about that taste sensation, but then I have the physical manifestation of it snatched from me. All the foods in the world, now paled in comparison to the pulled pork and sweet potatoes I have been denied.
I was a big boy and didn’t throw a hissy-fit, but inside I was pouting big time.
I wasn’t in the mood for driving into downtown Lowell, so we just meandered through Chelmsford along Route 27, as we pondered our options. As we intersected with Route 2a, I suggested we hit Il Forno for some Italian fare. I usually substitute a plate of roasted vegetables for the pasta and I order Seafood Il Forno, a wonderful platter of calamari, clams, mussels, shrimp, scallops and whatever other fish swam by that day. But since I was soothing the little boy inside me who was still throwing a temper tantrum, I was rebellious and I ordered the seafood served over angel hair pasta.
I haven’t eaten pasta in about a year, and it was covered with a garlic and olive oil sauce. I was so delicious. And I soaked up all the olive oil with a basket of garlic bread. Yes, I haven’t eaten a basket of garlic bread in over a year too. Then I ordered a piece of chocolate cake with white chocolate butter cream frosting and a cappuccino for dessert. Now I will confess, I enjoyed my decadent binge of garlic/oil laden pasta. I was ambivalent about the garlic bread. I was disappointed by the dessert.
I left the restaurant perversely satisfied. Yes, I had fallen off the Paleo Wagon big time, but generally speaking, I didn’t enjoy it. Sixteen months ago, I would have killed for a slice of rich chocolate cake. And there have been times when I have lusted for a chocolate cake. But when I actually tasted it again, I didn’t really like it. It was too sweet, the frosting tasted like Crisco, the consistency and texture of the cake were unappetizing. I thank God. It’s like a switch has been turned off inside my brain. I want real food, prepared in a wholesome and exciting fashion, you know, like Suzanne’s Chocolate Lava Cake with Cream and Raspberries.
Now the punchline, I barely slept Saturday night. All the grain-based products I consumed were raising havoc with my gut. I was bloated and uncomfortable. And as I rolled around on my mattress like a beached whale, I remembered that this is what every day used to be like.
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