The food police are after me. Eat more kale. Desist the consuming of red meat. No more bacon, ham, or sausage. Hostess is out, gluten free is in. Help! Like Gandalf standing in front of the deli counter with staff outstretched proclaiming: “Thou shall not pass,” The World Health Organization has decided my consumption is killing me—and has decided to make it official.
With the impending doom of The Holidays upon me, what’s a stress-eater to do? No more sausage stuffing? No more hot breakfasts with bubbling bacon on the stove top? What’s next, television cooks teaching us how to “bacon-fry” kale to go with our egg-white omelets? What’s the point of family meals if we have to leave feeling both hungry and buoyant? Aren’t November and December the months to pack on the pounds? What will Weight Watchers do when January 1st rolls around and no one signs up? What will Aunt Netty say when we pass on her bacon-stuffed flank steak with sausage gravy?
I think processed/smoked/cured/salted/disguised-with-pimentoes meat consumption is in the Bill of Rights somewhere. Perhaps I can start a special interest group like the NRA or AARP. I’ll call it the RBC, Right to Bear Carcinogens or something equally catchy. Members will have to pledge allegiance to the deli man and to Arby’s. We’ll be a force to reckon with. We’ll send out fliers and clog the airways (as well as our arteries) with our pro smoked-meats stance. We won’t take this lying down.
Well, of course some of us will. I’m thinking of those relatives who will cave and partake in double helpings of Aunt Netty’s specialty.
What’s your stance?