I've eaten THREE 3-course meals over the last THREE days. It's the dieters' triple threat, not to mention the worst nightmare for someone who has a problem saying words beginning in 'th' (which technically would also be correct as the meals were all 'free', too).Why? I spent two days at Shellharbour on the NSW South Coast on a press trip. Supposedly was about testing out a bush walk to review for my readers, to inspire them to be fit and healthy, but mostly all I did was eat.
After a rough audit of my food choices during this trip (and the third meal at a launch in Sydney. Yet another 3-course meal with matching wines. Yawn – it's a tough life), I'd say I had a 51/49 strike rate – I manage to the right things most of the time... but only just.
I forgo afternoon snacks (tick)
But tend to get carried away with the bread (strike)
The bread at restuarants is so yummy, often some sort of sourdough, triple ground with ancient stones by blonde virgins, (or something similar but which fits on the menu better). It's also served with real butter softened with time and care, rather than a cocktail of chemicals. Having not eaten since lunch in preparation, I'm so low on blood sugar I fail to make the rational assesment of the further three mini-meals I'm about to eat and add a fourth course of bread. The lesson: One piece of bread is enough. You won't go hungry – trust me.
I skip the side sauce (tick)
But inhale every last chip in sight of my plate (strike)
I've posted previously about the devil in the sauce. Or the gravy. Or whatever-the-fancy-French name they've given to their leftover pan juices. I deemed the grain-fed porterhouse was tasty enough without the piped rosette of herbed butter (diet hero) but just can't seem to say no to potato side (loser). I sit in quiet awe of the sentence 'Can I have it with salad instead of the fries' but to date have never been able to utter it. The (not very helpful to your diet) lesson: Chips taste good and are hard to resist.
I drink lots of water (tick)
But it's mostly to rehydrate from the wine (strike)
Food and wine belong together like, er, Madge and Guy don't. There's nothing to really add here except to say that I'm going to try really hard to have two alcohol days in the near furture to make up for it. Hopefully within the next week. The lesson: Wine will not be your best friend in the morning.
I order tea not coffee or hot chocolate (tick)
But don't bother asking for skim milk (strike)
It might seem extreme to be obsessing over a quick flick of the wrist with the milk jug, but as I'd probably consumed 12,000 calories in the previous 3 courses, I need to save calories when I can. The lesson: Add one word – skim – to your order.
To summarise, even at the risk of sounding like I'm jumping on someone else's snappy diet dictum, the French eat 3-course meals pretty much every day and they don't get fat. It involves a complex set of lifestyle choices and I reckon switching to skim milk with my tea and eating fries (duh, they're French) might be a couple of them.
