Eat Up Fatty

Last call. There’s nothing like getting notice that the tap is about to be turned off to make someone extra thirsty. So people do ridiculous things in the panic of the moment, like ordering rounds of shots or a couple of doubles.

Bottom line. It almost never ends well.

Well, for the past several weeks I have been setting a goal for myself. I said that the diet would kick back in on March 1. Which, if you haven’t noticed, is Wednesday. So this past weekend was a last call of sorts. And the next couple of days are my last carefree days of butter soaked bliss.

And much like the drunk at the bars who is about to be denied any more hooch, I’m making bad decisions in the clutch.

It didn’t help that the in-laws brought all kinds of meaty treats from Pennsylvania, including some of the biggest, thickest, meatiest, bacon I’ve ever seen. Turns out it’s back bacon. Oh yeah. Those Pennsylvanians know how to live.

Of course, there was scrapple. So I had to fry a bit of that up in butter. That’s just how you do it.

But there was also some ground beef, which meant I had a couple of hamburgers before heading out to Proctors on Friday night. Those were an unexpected treat. My mother-in-law was frying them up as I was heading out.

That’s not to mention the four filet mignon steaks that I cooked up last night, with an onion pan sauce, and some olive oil crisped potatoes. Actually, that part was pretty healthy, given the leanness of the meat. Even Young Master Fussy enjoyed them. What nobody loved was the smoke made from the blazing hot cast iron skillet sear. But thankfully Mrs. Fussy was here to open windows and disconnect the smoke detector while I cooked.

And there are still hot dogs to eat in the next couple of days, along with some sauerkraut. Did I mention the braunschweiger?

It’s not as if all this meat has got me eating at home exclusively either. Friday night, instead of waiting for the traffic to clear out of the Proctors lot, I decided to head to Nico’s for a late night slice. As far as I’m concerned, that’s still a solid slice shop. The pizza of Schenectady is strong.

Saturday I spent most of the day in Saratoga Springs for the Craft Beer Summit, and that was a three dough boy day. I don’t think I’ve ever had a three dough boy day before. But I suppose that’s what happens when you’re drinking beer all day and GotBeer.com has set up a VIP corner with free dough boys. And actually, I only availed myself of two dough boys from festival. The third I purchased at Esperanto directly when the festival was over.

Then I had a thousand calories worth of french fries covered with aioli, parmesan, and herbs.

Part of me wanted to slow down before the diet kicks in on Wednesday, so I wouldn’t have to feel like I was going cold turkey. Guess that’s not going to happen.

But this time, dammit, I’m not dieting for the doctor. This time I’m dieting for me. I’m feeling fat and gross. So it’s even possible there may be a bit of exercise that gets worked into the next round of healthful living. We’ll just have to wait and see.