Here we go again with the Monday. Seems like we just did this day, didn’t we?
No big ‘happy wanderer’ weekend here despite a full tank of gas. Sunday was another day of attending to my home and things that have been neglected a while, including my approach to All Things Food.
I did indeed make it to brunch yesterday. After I journaled my ‘wahh, I wanna go but I’m not hungry’ I curled up on the bed with Mushy to watch a series ‘True Detectives’. Halfway into the first segment, yep, I was hungry. I drank a bottle of water and finished the episode to be sure it was hunger not just thirst. Nope, real hunger. So I dressed and walked down to the bistro. I had a Mimosa and a Monte Cristo. With fries.
Sipping slowly (because… this restaurant service moves at a snails pace and I may or may not include my politically incorrect rant about waitresses at the end of my journal depending on time and conscience) I realized the Mimosa hit me like a ton of bricks. Yep, I may still be overweight but I’m definitely a lightweight when it comes to champagne on an empty stomach.
What happened next was an interesting observation (to me). Something of which it’s important to be aware and consider. I was a bit light headed and imagined staggering home (I’d walked) after brunch and cracking open more bottles (for a woman that rarely drinks I have a fairly large wine collection) and just … yeah, getting drunk, being irresponsible, eating junk food, using the wine as an excuse for a ‘lost evening’ and so on.
What was behind that? I’m not sure. Why did I want to use a beverage being consumed at my own choice to relieve me of the rest of the choices I would want to make for the rest of the day? What did I want to do that I wasn’t brave enough, aware enough, mindful enough.. whatever ‘enough’ to do without a chemical crutch?
My sandwich arrived. I ordered a coffee instead of another mimosa.
This place does their own version of a Monte Cristo ~ instead of a battered & fried club sandwich they do it w/Texas toast and it’s a bit ‘heavy’. I ate very slowly and even moved my ‘fist’ over the plate trying to be sure I ate ‘enough’. I brought the other half home; it's still in the fridge. I'm proud - I did not madly munch it at midnight.
I think that’s what happened Saturday with the baked ziti. Other than the fact that it was bland so there was no inspiration to eat ‘too much’ of that … I was trying to eat ‘less than enough’ to be ‘sure’.
I’m not sure right now how much is enough because I’ve gone off the grid and slipped into ‘feast or famine’ mode lately. So for now, I’m using the ‘your fist is the size of your stomach’ portion measuring and going by that. I didn’t feel overly ‘full’ when I left but I didn’t get home and do that ridiculous mental merry go round like I did Saturday.
‘I’m hungry?’
“How can you be hungry? You just ate!”
‘I know.. I was there.. but I am’
“Well, ok, eat something. Small portion. Be mindful.”
‘Did it.. didn’t help… still hungry.’
It’s a stupid conversation that actually runs out loud here in Bellawood as I share my thoughts with Mushy. She’s rarely help as she is her Mommy’s dog and will eat anytime I’m eating.
That’s it, I need a big dog. A big old mean dog leashed to the entry to the kitchen. A lean, mean, angry dog. Like, if Jillian Michaels were a dog. Hmm.. sounds a lot like the image I try to hold in my head during those conversations. Something else to explore as that is not the approach I’m trying to have with myself as I heal this food addiction.
Anyway, dinner was the last of the turkey vegetable soup ( a cup ) and a cup of hot chocolate. A little peanut butter before bed - decided not to use the oatmeal as the vehicle just to get the ‘thing’ I wanted.
I consider it a better day of eating. Now here’s to doing it again today. Without Jillian.
If you’ve read this far, bless you. Regardless of how much you read, thank you for stopping to visit with me. My politically incorrect rant about the dying art of waitresses follows. Read at your own risk.
Bella
To begin with, I started working in food service when I was 8 years old. Yes, 8. That was back before child labor laws were strictly enforced and I bussed tables and washed dishes and did backup preparation work. Later I moved up to cook and generally grew up then put myself through college watching a group of women for whom waitressing was their life, not their temporary ‘gig’ waiting for ‘the next big thing’. So I have done my time in restaurants of all types.. from cafes to bistros.
A few years ago, Blondie and I went out for lunch and I tipped the waitress twice the total of the tab. Blondie freaked out. ‘Mom.. I know you’re a big tipper… but what gives? Do you know her?’
I in fact did not know her, the waitress, specifically, no. In fact, I doubt she said ten words to us the entire meal. But, we had fresh, hot chips delivered without question (we were at a Mexican restaurant) and clean salsa bowls each time, our beverages never went empty and our food was hot and on time.
No, I didn’t know her. But I knew what she was. She was a professional among so many amateurs these days and deserved a great tip for reminding me they still existed. But it’s been years since I’ve seen one of those. Did they all retire?
What happened to those women? Where did they go?
I know, the PC term is ‘waitstaff’. Heaven forbid we identify ANYone by their gender anymore. Gah.
Give me a good old fashioned WAITRESS. The one who comes by my table within less than a minute (instead of FOUR SONGS - that’s how long I waited yesterday for someone to finally approach me and THIS was in a room with only five other tables occupied for a total of 12 patrons being covered by FOUR waiters and waitresses!).
Give me a veteran waiter who delivers to me a menu with a glass of water, welcomes me, and asks me if I would like to start my meal off with a nice glass of ‘something’ (suggesting a beverage rather arriving empty handed and ask me if I would like something to drink or if I need to see the menu… duh.. it’s a freaking restaurant, not a barber shop… of COURSE I want a beverage and food…!)
There won’t be a need to apologize for my long wait … because I wouldn’t have had one. *I* know the only reason you came to my table is you caught me GLARING at you as you passed by me the third time.
I see water on all the other tables.. yet you brought me none. Is that a special request? When did water stop being automatic? What’s up with that?
Give me a veteran waitress who knows how to upsell. When *I* order the entree… don’t ask me ‘anything else?” Suggest! Here’s a hint: ‘Monte Cristo? Those are so fabulous. I love them. Would you like french fries or a nice dinner salad on the side?’ You’re working in a restaurant. Your TIP is a percentage of the total. Work the total, stupid.
As you walk by again, instead of another unsolicited apology, say something pleasant like ‘your Monte Cristo is just about ready, shall I bring you another Mimosa with that?’ NOT ‘I’m sorry .. it’s coming.. are you going to want another mimosa or something else?'
Give me a veteran waiter who knows if I slide my coffee cup to the outer edge of the table, I’m signaling for a refill. Especially if I move it to the inner part of the table as I drink. We don’t need a discussion about this. Just arrive with the freaking pot and pour. If *I* put my hand over the cup, it means no, thank you. Don’t ASK me if I want more and then make me wait another five minutes while you go get the freaking pot. I’ve already indicated I want more. Do it, please.
This is Texas for heaven’s sake. If I order fries, of course I want catsup. So WHAT if I don’t. That whole tablespoon you squeezed into the little tin cup isn’t going to break your bank if I don’t eat it. Bring it with the damn food.
When you ask ‘how is everything’ if I say ‘good, thank you..’ you may want to suggest ‘wonderful! Now be sure and save a little room for dessert. Our chef has prepared a fabulous (...something… ) or perhaps you’d like to try one of our incredible signature desserts wines.’ Asking me ‘do you want anything else’ just doesn’t cut it. Not in my book of service. You're lucky you didn't get my rant.
Seriously… I’m tired of this crap. This is why *I* don’t go out to eat very much. I am tired of substandard service. If you are the kind of person who considers waitressing beneath you .. then go do something, anything else. This is a time honored profession and there are people who used to do it really well. And they made a lot of money for the restaurant as well as for themselves. And I miss them. I want them back.
If I ever find them.. I’ll probably go there daily. Just to order coffee.. watch.. and tip outrageously.
End Rant
