Self discipline when it comes to food has always been an issue for me. I could eat an entire sleeve of cookies by myself – in one sitting – with no regrets. Okay, so perhaps there were regrets but definitely no problems. Given a 10 – 15 minute break, I could polish off another. But as I got older, the cookie made way for more of what I’d like to call a refined taste – enter the potato chip.
I mean, think about it. Thin, crisp, rounds of salty goodness that come in a multitude of enticing flavours. What more could a girl ask for? You can buy them plain or flavoured, kettle cooked or your standard deep-fried goodness. You could dunk them in a variety of mouth-watering, cream cheesy dips as well. They are very versatile.
Unfortunately, there is no healthy potato chip. Well, I suppose that’s maybe not true. I hear tales of some mythical version created south of our borders consisting of organic potatoes fried in organic avocado oil or some other such healthy goo. But I haven’t spoken to anyone who’s actually tried them so they are possibly just a Californian legend. Until I know for sure of their existence, I won’t read the ingredients on my local grocery store bag. Ignorance sometimes really is bliss.
I’ve done okay with removing pretty much every other darn food I found remotely appealing due to autoimmune disease. No more bread, doughnuts, pastries, milk, cheese, peanuts, pasta, beans, etc. It’s a long horrific list. I was even told to cut out eggs for a year! Are you kidding me??? I work out of my darn truck, in the middle of nowhere. Eggs are a major lunchtime protein source! For crap sakes. Whatever, back to the potato chip…
Some chip companies have been so kind as to list on their fantastically crinkly bags which flavours are gluten-free! How kind of them! The problem lies in the fact that when you can’t eat junk food – it’s all you want. Even when you know that you’re not getting a damn speck of nutrients out of it, and it’s probably causing more internal harm than the flavour party in your mouth is worth, you want it bad. Gluten free only means that I won’t look like someone ran a snowmobile over my face the next day – all the other junk still does it’s secret, internal damage.
A normal human sized amount of chips, in a personal sized bowl would be a nice snack during a movie. Don’t you agree? Yes, me too. But in reality, it’s the family sized bag, dumped into the large Tupperware, parked on my lap. We used to be more civilized about it. Husband and I would place the bowl on the side table between us and eat like people who’ve seen food within the past few hours. But then something strange happened, we needed two bags, two bowls, and the unspoken competition known as “Who can fit more chips in their mouth at once and still chew?” began. The television speakers stretched to their volume limits in a vain effort to be heard above the crunching.
I’m unclear as to when the transformation from mannerly folk into ravenous hyenas actually happened. Maybe it was gradual and therefore we were oblivious until too late. We were unknowingly swept up in the fancy foil bag conspiracy. I’m going to cling to that theory.
For now, Potato Chip is winning this battle. If I can eat certain chips and not feel as if I haven’t slept in a month, or develop some random rash, or break out with pimples that make my face look like the barnacle covered hull of an ocean liner… I’ll accept that for now. A girl has to have some fun.
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