To Thine Own Self, Be Food

Week Three of No Restaurants is rapidly approaching, and I honor that anniversary with a quick rundown of important happenings. 1. When it comes to literature I have read about food, there are three that form My Power Triad: "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver "Omnivore's Dilemma" by Michael Pollan "Food Rules" by Michael Pollan So, I have recently purchased a new book, which I think I have mentioned here already: "What to Eat" by Marion Nestle. And now, the Power Triad shall become the Power Quad. Page twelve is when I came across this tidbit: "Nearly half of the typical family's food budget goes for foods prepared and eaten outside the home, where businesses with motives having nothing to with health are in control of content and amounts." <---- That was me when I read that. We were about a week or so into the OOR Experiment, and talk about vindication! Never had I felt so justified about this

Yesterday might have been, by far, the dark nadir of this whole desperate No Restaurants experience. Ok, nah, scratch that. Not really...but a little. Energy levels were running pretty low yesterday. Soccer practice, bowling league, and Opening Night were the key factors in this late-week exhaustion. Subway beckoned to us, ever so seductively... But then I asked, what's in it for us? Sure, Subway is tasty food, but we could probably get that at home too, if we looked hard enough. It certainly wasn't going to be quicker than eating at home; not by the time we piled everyone (clad in various soccer or bowling or theater accoutrements) in the Sedona (this would probably be after several minutes of hassled shouting, “Hey, get your damn shoes on!”) The point here is, there was no legitimate reason. So, why? In the town I live in, there are many chain restaurants and a few local joints – places I’ve eaten at several times. I wasn’t hankering for anything special. So, the que

One week has passed since the Great Resolution of 2010. And how have we been doing? Twenty-one meals have been consumed either here at home or with food taken from our home. No restaurant meals! It hasn't been as hard as I thought it would be. The kids have not complained, and Brent has been an oak, as well. Friday night was a bit of a weak moment, as I contemplated an end-of-the-week trip to the local sandwich shop (as a reward for completing the week, I guess??), but in the end, opted for a much more fun and interesting "Fend For Yourself" pantry scavenge at home. Today was our first real challenge, as Kirby had a soccer game this afternoon in a town 20 minutes away. In the past, we probably would have headed straight from church to Subway (or similar) to grab something before we left town. Today, though, the kids packed their own lunches and drinks...to be eaten on the road. Nobody missed the turkey flatbread or meatball sub. I'll admit, I've craved

One day down, twenty-three days to go. All quiet on the Nelson front...so far. I haven't heard any griping, pining, or salivating for a cheeseburger, quesadilla, or reuben. Our first significant test comes this Saturday with kid soccer tournaments in a nearby town. We will most likely be done right around lunchtime - and previous tendencies would have been to hop on over to Subway. This time, though, Momma's thinking ahead and will be packing a cooler. Nothing like sticking it to the Man on this lovely Wednesday morning.

...of eating in restaurants, that is... ...just for month of September... You know, kids, me and the mister aren't getting any younger. We've hit what I call the "mid-thirties paradox". I mean, finally, we're wise enough to understand just exactly what "good health" means, and we're also financially stable enough to invest in the whole grain/fruits and vegetables/exercise hullabaloo that "good health" commands. But...it's our bodies that betray us. Ol Mr. Metabolism ain't what he used to be...and consequently, every donut, peanut butter cookie, or handful of Lucky Charms conspicuously shows up on the scale in the morning. It doesn't matter how ascetic our diet is during the week...all that self-flagellating hard work is wiped out in one Fantasy Football Draft weekend of burgers and beer. Depressing, yes. But there are two things I know for sure... 1. I'm loath to give up those Fantasy Football weekends. The s