In defiance of my fiancee’s requests to do otherwise, I will embrace my inner glutton in the supermarket aisle, one product at a time. An ongoing series until I get shut down.
Roland Truffle Mac & Cheese ($3.29)
Please forgive me, it’s been 21 days since my last confession. I have been forced onto a strict vegan macrobiotic diet and threatened with abandonment should I choose to divert from it. My pants are sagging off of my waist now. My energy is up, but really still down. My tongue is numb from attempting to find taste in everything that I’m pressured into consuming. Today however, things are going to change as my nutritional captor had to leave for the tropics early this morning. This of course was after she delivered a glass of water to my bedside and insisted “you need to drink more of this.” Now I have been left to my own devices, trusted that my good judgement will keep me in the habit of healthy eating. But fuck that, I want some flavor. The product you see above is my rebuttal. It was procured on an earlier mission to the supermarket, or what I now call “The Land of Opportunity.” I remember seeing the box of Truffle Mac & Cheese shining on store shelf, below it a cute little note highlighting its recent arrival on the aisle. I also remember just an hour ago, pulling the box from the back of the top shelf in the cupboard, and gripping it with excitement. Equipped with the knowledge of how to boil water, I got things cooking. Upon noticing sufficient bubbles, I dumped the pieces of whole wheat pasta promise into the pot. Twelve minutes later, I was five minutes away from my future in fatty foods. After straining, I returned the macaroni noodles to the pot and added the truffle white cheddar mixture to the top. A subtle scent of luxury filled the air, as I simultaneously realized that I had been foiled again by the lack of dairy to include in the mix. I reluctantly added almond milk along with some delicious Irish butter to the pot, and removed a wooden spoon from the drawer below the counter. With each circle I stirred around the pasta, the aroma of the truffle flavoring became stronger, and by the 15th movement the scent became a smell. It was disgusting. So disgusting in fact that when I made the transfer of food from the pot to the bowl I actually dry heaved. What was wrong with me? Had she finally won? Could I no longer eat bad food? As any prisoner would do upon seeing an opportunity for freedom, I carried on and forked a couple pieces of the creamy mac & cheese into my mouth. Two chews and those pieces were back in the bowl. I proceeded then to dump the bowl of crud back into the pot, and from the pot, the mass of disgusting pasta was emptied into the trash can where the smell still lingers as of twenty minutes ago. Like escaping a prison only to realize that you’re on an island, my heart sunk. Would there ever be any hope? Then I remembered the pizza shop downstairs and went and got two slices. Until next time… hopefully.