You Make Me Feel Like I

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Previously on Poor Impulse Control, we took up the curious case of the deceptively fantastic diet.

The difference between a restrictive regimen and a culinary adventure lies in one’s frame of mind. Are you willing to settle for feeling like you’ve lost out on what everyone else does or can you see past everyone else to what you want? Our off-limits list may give us pause, but after that hiccup, all I see is glorious eats.

No grains, then. Is breakfast impossible? No. Breakfast is actually our easiest get. In America, we think breakfast is cereal or oatmeal or a cup of coffee and ennui, but in other parts of the world, people eat some variation of rice and vegetables. Rice is off our ingredient list, but so?

Combination One
Cheese omelette
Fruit compote
Juice
Tea

Combination Two
Fruit salad with cottage cheese
Bacon
Juice
Tea

Combination Three
Plain yogurt with honey and sliced banana
Ham steak
Juice
Tea

Combination Four
Prosciutto and mozzarella pinwheel
Melon balls
Juice
Tea

Combination Five
Scrambled eggs with swiss cheese
Sauteed spinach with lemon juice
Juice
Tea

Yes, it is that easy. This is just a template anyone can use to create simple, nutritious and filling breakfast plates, and anyone should. There’s also a whole class of breakfast thingies we should not overlook: custards.

Ta darling, you exclaim, custards are dessert. We can’t have that for breakfast! That’s – It’s – Am I a bad person if that sounds exciting?

Too many rules! For every little voice in your head that says, No no no! you should hear mine purring, Ya hunh. Got any gum?


Yes, but only flourless chocolate cake for you, my darlings.

What’s in custard? Beaten egg, milk, sugar and usually an extract, either vanilla or almond. For our purposes, skip those. You can think of this adventure as permission to consider other flavorings. Lemon, orange or grapefruit zest are traditional custard flavorings, but you can consider brown sugar, jugo de naranja or dried fruit. Simple egg custards are wonderful and flan or tembleque make fantastic breakfasts. Where will you get recipes? Fortunately for you, you’re sitting next to the world’s largest encyclopedia and cookbook and evidently both your curiosity and hunger are insatiable. And don’t forget marvelous curds.

Remember these exciting words: whatever else you make, fruit is your best friend and tropical fruit makes your life positively thrilling.

Things Haven’t Really Changed As Such

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A taciturn acquaintance, running in the same social circles I used to walk, has many food allergies and decided recently to test drive a diet plan. There may have been an ER visit and prick tests, but it’s not all glamour. His wife is an award-winning baker and the two of them are briliant, capable researchers. Even so, he whined a bit about “hippy food” and “rabbit food” on Facebook. He has to live with it; I don’t, so to me this is a puzzle and I love puzzles. Want to play?

These foods are off-limits:

Alcohol
High Fructose Corn Syrup
Garlic
Paprika
Nuts
Soy
Grains
Coffee

These foods may or may not be problems, but I don’t know:

Dairy
Eggs
Citrus
Nightshades

You have questions? I have questions. How about corn? Chocolate? We don’t know. Next week, our acquaintance will try adding in bread to see if he goes all Violet, you’re turning violet, Violet!

No one wants that.

I’ve been thinking about this task for several days and what I like best about the list of no-nos is that it offers no easy ways out. Once I settled into it, I found myself thinking about all the possibilities in the produce aisle and everything I wouldn’t usually consider in the meat, poultry and seafood sections, because if grains are verboten, bulk is an issue.

But – and this is the bright, shiny, upside: a person eating this way could feel super healthy in very short order. So this week, I’m going to put down pieces of this puzzle and invite you to try your hand at it in comments.

Let Me Be Your Ocean

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We’ve already seen this movie. It starts with an epithet, in the middle there’s an apology pie and it ends with a food fight.

Maybe I missed the meeting of all people in the whole world in which the news spread that it was hunky dory to close talk at the only person on the entire planet whose body may be more closely guarded than the pope’s. Well, if that’s the case, I’d like to apply for an interview in which Mr. Obama and I have a knee to knee chat about how Tim Geithner and Larry Summers are not actually his friends and Austen Goolsby, while often hilarious, does and says some very unfunny things. This would be an excellent use of my truth-telling powers. Also: Mr. Obama and I are nearly the same age, so we could chitchat about how super-cool and regrettable are those fading pictures of us as awkward teens at Bicentennial celebrations on opposite ends of our country.

Governor Brewer wanted the president to go places and do stuff with her, but she already told her friends he’s not her secret boyfriend, no backsies. Then there was this tete-a-tete, during which he walked away, leaving her without a prom date. I’m not a fan of either one of them, but when the music starts, none of the popular boys will ask her to dance.

A Guitar To Punish Your Ma

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Sweetpea's favorite chair, where my butt is currently parked.

This morning, Sweetpea began making the Take me to the hospital noise at Pete, who recognized it from last Memorial Day weekend. Pete called me on the verge of panic, but couldn’t really explain why he was nervous. When I got home, I opened the front door and smelled illness. The vet had an open appointment at 6, which gave me plenty of time to rub half our house with disinfectant wipes. At the vet’s office, a new vet in the practice saw Sweetpea, who curled up in my arms until we were both sick-stinky. The vet agreed our darling was sick and needed an overnight with fluids and medicines. I was reluctant to leave her and briefly considered a weepy retreat, but I had to go to a union contract ratification vote on the way home. And I did. Tomorrow morning, we hope Sweetpea will feel better.

I’m Traveling I’m Flying

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Last night, my laptop crossed its arms and sulked sulkily. If you remember your teen years or have lived with people in theirs you’re undoubtedly familiar with the concept. Perhaps it was refusing to acknowledge the utterly tasteless idea that Republican presidential candidates would debate in South Carolina on Martin Luther King Day, but I wouldn’t give it that much credit. Last night, the crazy guy crazy guys look at and go, “Whoa!” suggested American foreign policy utilize the Golden Rule and I sure didn’t see that coming. The booing, that you could pretty much see coming for miles.

Anyway, I’m not sure what this sulking portends. Blogging might be tricky. Maybe. The laptop might just have some growing up to do. Whatever, but I better not find out it stole my car keys: the car needs a brake job and a better attitude.