#213 Ape-etite 2

One of my listeners pointed out after yesterday’s essay that this whole variety-means-more calories theory has merit. And perhaps that’s why we now say we “prepare” food rather than “cook” it. Any cooking these days seems to fall under the broader and more genteel appellation of food preparation. Cooks and chefs are still at the top of the food chain but the “Food Preparer” is sniffing at their ham-hocks.
But there are other theories besides variable appe-stat kickoffs for the causes of obesity. One is that our plates are simply too full. This theory relies on the “waste not/want not” and the “out of sight out of mind” hypothetical framework. Apparently, once the food is on your plate you feel impelled to eat it all—Mom’s admonition about the starving children in China grating through your brain like homily grits. So if you go to Applebee’s, say, and they serve you a three-course meal on Fridays, why goshdarnit, you have to be a member of dear old Mom’s clean plate club. Anything else would mean the terrorists have won. Couple this with the scientific observation that most people left alone with nothing to do will occupy their time with whatever’s handy, stacking checkers, playing solitaire or, if given a bag of chips, even if they’ve formerly proclaimed they’re not hungry, will snack, nibble, pick, and graze at those chips until they are gone or until the experiment ends. Those same people will even roll up the bag and take it with them, perhaps a vestige of our evolutionary squirrel period. Scientists suggest you can guard against this full plate combo notion by ordering dishes at restaurants “family style.” Having a larger plate of food to divvy up and put on your own smaller plate seems to mean you’ll have more leftovers to take home.
Another variation on obesity theory is the “paradoxical buffet.” Overwhelming the good intentions of the pick-and-put-your-own-portion-on-your-plate theory is the sheer quantity of the buffet and skinflintitis, the tendency of most people to want to get their money’s worth. Hey, I paid $7.95 for all I can eat and it’s damn well gonna be all I can eat. So folks stuff themselves to the waddling stage and then try to get back in their car without a hoist. And then they hit the road while they’re about to slide into a diabetic postprandial coma. Forget about D-W-I, how about D-W-E, driving while engorged? The subtext to this theory is that some people keep going back because the food is so bad—that the desire to keep eating comes from not having found anything good to eat yet. Which brings us back full circle. If your appe-stat only shuts off when you’ve had enough of a given flavor, then at some buffets it doesn’t shut off at all because you never get any flavor. In the end, I guess, diet all comes down to that optimism pessimism thing. Are you half empty or half full?
America, ya gotta love it.