McItaly

After last night's dinner at Olive Garden, I just had to discover what other people call it. That's how I found McItaly.

My friend, Ms. B, had a gift card she could use at any Darden restaurant. The only one anywhere near us was Olive Garden (did you know that Maine is the only state of the lower 48 without a Red Lobster?). Neither one of was excited about going to Olive Garden, but we were game.

We both checked out the menu online before arriving. I was aghast at the sodium content. A dinner portion of Chicken Parmigiana has 3,380 mg of sodium. That's over twice the amount recommended for people with heart problems. It's hard to find a dinner portion of anything with less than 1,500 mg of sodium. The Lighter Italian Fare maxes out at 2,250 mg; to be fair, the dinner portion of Herb-Grilled Salmon has only 360 mg -- all of the other meals are so high, however, that I'm tempted to believe that's a typo.

When we ordered stuffed mushrooms as an appetizer, our server warned us that they "take a little while." That was fine with us; we were in no hurry.

We didn't order our entrées right away but that didn't matter. The moment we ordered our entrées, out came the salad and bread sticks before our appetizer arrived. The appetizer did manage to arrive before the entrées, but not by much. No wonder we were warned that the stuffed mushrooms took a little while. Had we known, we'd have held off ordering our entrées until the appetizer appeared.

And then there were the interruptions. First we gave our drink orders. Then we ordered the appetizer. Then we shooed away the server three times until we finally gave in and ordered entrées. Once our table was filled with plates, we had to re-assure the server that the food tasted fine every time he passed our table. (I don't remember which interruption prompted Ms. B to tell me I had to leave the tip; that meant if she was in charge of the tip there wouldn't be one.) Somewhere during all of this the manager interrupted us to give us her card and tell she wanted us to know her name (because she was expecting complaints?).

Once the server started clearing the table it seemed he couldn't wait to get rid of us. He said he'd bring our bill before asking if we'd like dessert.

So when I came across the nickname "McItaly," I knew my search was over. Know what you want before you arrive or don't approach the counter until you do. Receive your meal all at once. If you want dessert, ask for it when you order. And whatever you do, don't look at the nutrition info. That will really put you off your meal.

Did you know that a dinner portion of Fettuccine Alfredo has 47 grams of saturated fat (74 grams total fat)?

I'm a long-time subscriber to the Nutrition Action Healthletter. It goes without saying that chain restaurants layer fat upon salt upon sugar. But I thought Olive Garden had gotten the memo.

Holy Cow!

Yep, that's what I thought when I saw how long it had been since I last posted. Holy cow, it's been over a year since I last posted!

My weight struggle continues. It's not likely to end anytime soon and it's not likely to result in a blog as powerful as The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl, who has retired that blog and continued at Shauna Reid. There was a time when I could have been Shauna Reid, except that my thyroid betrayed me, Lyme disease took over, perimenopause started, and I've been fighting ever since to reduce my weight and regain my health.

Today, however, I read some posts by Single Dad Laughing and I thought Dan Pearce has something to say on a regular basis. I don't. Maybe I should.

In his FAQs, Dan says, in response to the question "Do you think you'll run out of content?": No. I don't think that's possible. The world is spinning too fast for that to happen.

I think about my weight every day. I think about other stuff every day, too. And Dan is right: The world is spinning too fast for that to happen.

Sometimes what I think is unusual. Other times it's pretty mundane. No matter. I've always liked to write. And that's what I intend to do here.

I don't have a lot of followers and I don't care. I used to keep a journal. After many years of writing, I read some of it and I thought most of it was really inane; I fed all of its pages into our wood stove. I hope that I'm now old enough, wise enough, experienced enough . . . Oh, Hell (or should that be "hell," for the atheist that I am) . . . crazy enough to edit myself into something meaningful.