It was the third dinner of our vacation when I realized that I had ordered chicken...again.
"Way to get out of your comfort zone, babe," said my husband.
I'm so doggone used to eating chicken. You see, I went on a diet in November 2006, because I was inching toward a higher adjective of obesity. My BMI was something like 35, and my total pounds overweight was 50. I had already lost 20 on my own. Then I had neck surgery (why yes, officer, that is the sound of titanium!) and lost my mom. Still, I held onto the loss. After watching Mom claimed by lupus, type 2 diabetes, osteoporosis, COPD, and heart disease, I figured I'd better get the rest of those pounds off.
Medifast was my diet of choice, and it worked like a charm. After having to take a break in February-May 2007 because of a serious health problem (unrelated to the diet), I finished on July 4, 2007. I lost 40 lbs and decided that was good. I have a healthy BMI of 23.8 now and fit into a size 10 instead of a tight sized 18. I still feel fat, but I guess I'm really not.
That leads me back to the diet. And the chicken.
I tried not to blow all my calories on dessert while we were gone, but that first night, we stopped near Roanoke, VA, late at night at a Quality Inn. The closest open restaurant was Shoney's. They had a buffet going, and it looked like everyone else was going for it. They had a couple of different kinds of chicken and some vegetables up there. Okay. I was game.
I stopped in mid-bite of the green beans. Someone in the kitchen obviously stubbed his toe while pouring the salt, because the whole damned shaker was in there. The baked chicken, which I thought would be "safe" tasted more like they had been going for chicken jerky. Ooh, maybe that's what they thought "jerk chicken" was? I salvaged a few tender bits close to the bone, and ate a few bites of the green beans, washing it down with much water. We got a slice of apple pie to go, hoping that we could at least get a serving of fruit with our sugar. That was the best part of the meal. I went to bed pretty hungry that night, but I was happy that I'd be heading for a nicer place the next day.
Fast-forward to Orlando, nearly 8:30 the next night. We put our stuff away in the very nice hotel room and walked across the street to the Bennigan's. Hadn't been there in awhile, and there was no wait because of the time. What did I order? You guessed it. Grilled chicken with broccoli. It was a tad better than what I'd had at Shoney's, but it was still as arid as the Sahara. I longed for a juicy bit of barnyard clucker.
Did I tell you I used to be a vegetarian and am big on animal rights? I wouldn't want you to think I'm a heartless, chicken-eating bitch. I don't generally buy anything but organic, cage-free, vegetarian meat. Heh. That sounded funny. Seriously, you will find it hard to control what lands on your plate at the restaurant though. You kind of have to take what they have.
The next night, I finally found the perfect roast chicken. It was well-presented, nicely trimmed with a rosemary sprig, propped up on garlic potatoes and julienned vegetables. I ate until I was thoroughly sated.
The next night, however, we went out for our official anniversary dinner at Maggiano's Little Italy.
My hubby slyly looked at me as I perused the menu. "Chicken?" he asked.
No. I ordered the eggplant parmigiana, one of my favorite veggie dishes.
It was soggy in the middle. I consoled myself with cheesecake and went to bed feeling a bit like a bloated whale.
No real harm done to the waistline though. I'm still fittin' in the size 10s and the medium-sized shirts. I'm still feeling more svelte than not.
Tonight I cooked dinner in.
Grilled chicken and brussels sprouts. Mmmmm.
Peace - D