The Berkeley Diet is going on a break. The eating regimen failed to work. How much of this is attributable to eating in restaurants because we were spending the month away from home in a cottage in Carmel, I don’t know. Just to add to the confusion, my scale went on the fritz. One moment I weighed 164. A minute later it reported 167. WTF?
The diet ended in style, with an over-the-top fondu feast at Lugano in Carmel.
Buendnerfleish (which I shared with the dog), cheese fondu, and fondue au chocolat for dessert. And a bite or two of the Matterhorn.
The Berkeley Diet is a failed experiment, but it has its upside. I’m eating healthier. I’m more aware of nutrition. I no longer visit the fridge to nibble Gruyère in the wee hours of the morning. I am cautious about white carbohydrates. I regard bread as a guilty pleasure, not a staple. I eat brown rice instead of white. I seek out whole grains. Some meals are nothing but veggies. I take pride in not eating everything on my plate.
I’ll get back to my experiment. And I fully intend to drop my weight another 15 pounds. However, I am not going to do the daily weigh-in and obsessive food photos until I’m finished a September vacation to Scandinavia and Silesia and October business trips to Brasil, Portugal, the Netherlands, and Vegas.
Perhaps I should eat like Flirt:
She gobbles up what we put in the bowl but doesn’t obsess unless I’m eating fish or chicken. “Dog-fish” and “dog-chicken,” as I describe them in conversation with her, drive Flirt nutty with desire. (She particularly likes clams.) Nonetheless, she’s a svelte dog. No excess fat.
That’s how I’d like to be.
What a nice post! I liked very much to meet you – at a very good restaurant, I must say. Be happy!