Saturday, June 28, 2008


I have a favorite dessert-profiteroles. Crispy, light as air pastries filled with creamy ice cream and topped with lots of warm thick gooey sweet chocolate sauce. Profiteroles. The perfect dessert. I tasted profiteroles for the first time about forty years ago in London. A day that changed my life. There was something about that dessert-including the visual beauty of those sweet little ice cream filled balls floating in a sea of chocolate sauce-that appealed to all my senses. Very few restaurants know how to make good profiteroles and very few have them on the menu. They're sort of a 60s throwback-they're a retro dessert.
Tarbell's, a local Phoenix restaurant, has always had them on the menu. They're among the best I've ever had. We ate at Tarbell's last night. I did my chicken and veggie thing. Very good. Felt satisfied. The profiteroles never even entered my conscious thought process until the waiter brought the dessert menu. And there they were. Staring at me in black and white. Profiteroles. OMG. Should I? Just a taste? A bite? I could leave the rest over. Or the other three people at the table could finish them. Even just to look at those scrumptious orbs.
I did not succumb. I did not order them. I did not allow myself to be tempted. Well, I was tempted but I didn't give in.
I don't feel deprived this morning. I'm okay. I know they're still on the menu. Another day. I know that I have to stay true to eating this way until the weight "melts" away. Then I can moderate a bit. The longer I do this, the less I feel like straying.
Of course, I just spent three days of gorging myself in LA so it's easy to say that I can wait! But I didn't gorge. I ate a lot but not everything I might have in the past. I exercised some sensible control.
No weighing, though. I'll wait until next week. I'm never good at facing the truth. No matter what the truth is. Some people "just want to know". I'd rather be in the dark.
Still, I am curious. I'm leaving for the gym now. Perhaps I will weigh myself when I get there. But if it's bad, I'll be so disappointed. Or maybe not.

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