The dangers of eating out: Excessive deliciousness
Inevitably, every day on some news program, the media examines the dangers of eating out too often. It's all about excess, really.
Eating out means you'll consume more.
It'll cost you more money.
It makes sense, really. Restaurants want you to come back again and again. For you to come back, the food has to taste good. For the food to taste good, it needs to be filled with stuff that is not so good for you. There's a reason food at home tastes considerably less tasty: It has less butter. Less salt. Less sugar.
It's better for you.
Now, it's no secret that I don't cook. Preparing a nice, home-cooked meal is one of the most stressful things I can do to myself. Sometimes I'll do it. Sometimes it'll work out and I'll be overly proud of myself, telling everyone I'm a "culinary genius." Sometimes it won't and I'll want to kill someone, saying "See! This is why I don't cook!" Either way, it always stresses me out. I'm no Barefoot Contessa, smiling as I nonchalantly toss my ingredients from small, clear-glass ingredient bowl to big, professional, industrial mixing bowl, making everything look so incredibly...easy.
It's not easy.
I hate Barefoot Contessa.
Although I may not be some chef extraordinaire, I do cook up a mean grilled cheese on gluten-free bread. I butter every single inch of that bread, grill it to perfection, and pair it with the perfect amount of ketchup on the side. Sometimes I'll use Colby-jack cheese. Sometimes it'll be a mozzarella-tomato-olive oil kinda day.
Yep, I am the queen of the grilled cheese.
And I'm not ashamed to say that I typically eat at least four grilled-cheese sandwiches every week. Sometimes for lunch; sometimes for dinner. Always delicious.
My grilled cheeses haven't been quite as appealing as they typically are. I hadn't been able to put my finger on exactly why until today. Today I figured out the grilled-cheese mystery.
I've been spoiled. Spoiled by eating out.
|Linger's scrumptious masala dosa|
Since I was diagnosed with celiac disease and was forced to cut gluten out of my diet, I've been on the hunt for top-notch gluten-free food at Denver-area restaurants. And, it's safe to say that I've found plenty of options. This week alone, I've eaten the refreshing tomato-mozzarella salad at The Capital Grille; the dreamy masala dosa at Linger; my favorite gluten-free pizza ever--the roasted vegetable at City, O' City; the incredible arugula mozz gluten-free sandwich paired with a cup of split pea curry soup at ModMarket; and, tonight, we tried the fairly new pizza spot in town: Naked Pizza.
All were unbelievably good.
Way better than my measly little grilled-cheese sandwiches.
So now, I sit here on a Friday night, doing a little writing, planning my Saturday, and all I can think of is what delicious spot I want to hit for lunch tomorrow after my run.
This is bad. Bad for my wallet. Bad for my waistline. Bad, bad, bad. But seriously, who wants to eat at home (unless you have some amazingly talented personal chef)? When there are so many ambitious, unique chefs in Denver who seem to be trying to please my specific gluten-free, vegetarian palate, there's no way I'm eating four grilled-cheese sandwiches a week at home. No way.
Looks like I'm going to have to step it up at the gym. And get a raise.