Old habits.

Today, I had a wonderful dinner.  Turkey burgers over a fresh garden salad, with sliced black mission figs and homemade vinaigrette. Figs are in season, and they’re wonderful.  Actually, let me take that back. By themselves they’re only so-so. Add a savory element and some tang and some good olive oil, and whoa!

This great, healthy dinner is in contrast to lunch, where I failed myself.

Lunch itself was delicious. I went to a great restaurant in downtown Miami… Stoupsy’s. It’s a low-key Greek restaurant that is consistently great.  Usually I get a greek salad with grilled chicken or souvlaki (beef), hold the coal-fired pita (which is delicious, for grain-eaters).

Today, the special was greek meatballs. In a lemony cream sauce.  And they looked really, really good, so I ordered them.

WELL. In addition to beef, they had spices and RICE. Lots of rice. And possibly bread crumbs. And they were swimming in that lemony cream sauce.

I loved every one of the fifteen minutes that I was eating all three of those delicious meatballs.  It was a taste sensation. It was meatball heaven.  However, the immediate joy of the meatball experience was overshadowed when I was haunted by the meatballs all afternoon.  Those delicious meatballs sat in my stomach like a rock.  Those delicious meatballs went right to my eyelids and made me feel like I had been drugged.  Those delicious meatballs unleashed a plague of gross burbs all afternoon as I tried to do legal research.

Then, I did an “Extreme Abs” class and almost lost my meatballs.  Keep in mind, there was nothing “wrong” with the meatballs, except that they contained stuff I try not to eat anymore.

It was quite the lesson.  One of my old food habits was to get suckered in to ordering a “special” even if I knew the “special” contained stuff I should not eat.  “But it’s special! Limited time only! I’ll never get this chance again! Must. EAT.”  I am thankful to the meatballs for teaching me that lesson today.  Not that I won’t fall back on this old habit eventually… but with the fresh memory of the meatballs uncomfortably lodged in my gullet, I’ve already packed a fig salad with turkey for lunch tomorrow.

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