“Fifteen hundred calories? Oh, I can’t do that.”
“Huh?” I murmur barely looking up from my menu.
I drove my daughter, Ava, down to the States a couple of weekends ago to visit family friends. As previously mentioned, Ava had just turned thirteen and one of her wishes was to head down to Everett to visit close friends that moved down there a couple of years ago.
Our family is lucky enough to live just a ten-minute drive to the US border and are able to cross frequently to get cheap gas and the odd, umm, bottle of wine. We can be there and back within 20 minutes, give or take.
Thankfully, Everett is also a short drive. What’s two hours between friends?
Being that this visit, or anytime we get to visit them, is cause for celebration, we headed out for some afternoon delight. In this case, that refers to shops, eats and admittedly, drinks.
So there we sat, at a glazed wooden table inside The Cheesecake Factory, where we were promptly handed a library. A library? (I sense confusion from behind my lit screen) Yes, maybe not a literal library, but it was definitely a full array of reading material, sporting page upon page of, what proved to be, very valuable information.
My friend and I have both been on somewhat of a health kick since the start of the New Year. No resolutions mind you, just a few minor cutbacks and cutouts.
On that note, we were both thinking greens, of course.
My nose buried in the menu, I was perusing the oodles of scrumptious components that miraculously constituted a salad when I heard her repeat,
“I can’t do fifteen hundred calories for one meal…one item. I just can’t.”
“I thought we were talking salad, crazy girl. I’m having the…”
“That is a salad. Fifteen hundred calories for one salad.”
I tut. “Well, I’m going to have the Asian. It sounds nice and light.” I don’t even ask her what kind of crazy ‘salad’ she’s considering.
“Oh my God, the Asian is eighteen hundred!” She proceeds to release that guttural cackle I miss out on having to communicate with her mainly over text and email now.
I grab her menu, even though it’s the same as mine and squint even though I’m wearing my glasses.
“Good Lord, you are right. It does say that. Is that even legal?”
Luckily we eventually found, amongst the documentation laid out in front of us, a menu entitled – Skinnylicious.
It included listings of the regular menu items, complete with alterations, and grouped into uncluttered calorie categories such as: Salads Under 590.”
This meant we were able to happily order our respective salads and the non-Skinnylicious item, Pineapple Upside-Down Cheesecake.
Knowledge is power, my friends. It’s also delicious.