Bread, Food's MVP

Everyone has something they love. Now, I'm not talking the platonic way that a woman might love a piece of jewelry. I'm talking about the kind of love you would march across deserts for, the kind that makes you read the same story everyday to your wife with Alzheimer's. The kind that country songs are written about. The kind that will set forests aflame. For me, that love is bread. 

Bread has always been there for me. It has never mocked me or called me fat... even though it's probably the cause of a few lingering pounds... It doesn't ask me to keep secrets or peer pressure me into running a 5k. Bread simply gives, and gives, and gives some more. I love it more than a person should ever love just one portion of the food pyramid. Bread is a faithful companion, a confidant, a comfort in times of need. Bread is my unhealthy addiction, and I am coming to accept that.

My love affair with bread should have been obvious to my parents when I started eating bread dough raw, or maybe when I was in elementary school and I'd throw away the meat in my sandwiches and just eat the bread (in fact, they might have never known about that... sorry mom) or maybe when I showed such persistence as a toddler for playing in my grandmothers kitchen drawer... yes, a kitchen drawer... full of flour [see figure 1.1]. It wasn't until I started putting potato chunks on crackers (it was potato soup, alright!) that they really started to worry about my starch intake.

One day (that I am now referring to as judgement day) I was able to consume an entire half of a French loaf, a donut, a bagel, a baguette, and a smattering of cakes and cookies... oh, I wish I were exaggerating. It was that night, as I was stepping onto the scale (cue the theme song from Jaws) that I realized I had a problem.

To put my life in perspective, and learn to love appropriate things like friends and family and work, I decided something had to be done. I began scouring the inter-webs and the yellow pages trying to find self help groups for serial bread bingers such as myself. When that didn't work, my roommate and I decided to commence a bread fast. For the entire month of May we pledged to avoid all types of breads, it's various relatives, and even gateway foods that could lead to harder bread substances. I'm telling you folks, it had to be done.

For the most part, days one through ten were only mildly atrocious. I was only slightly more irritable and avoided only certain commercials for things such as subway and Panera B****. Here, on day 19, certain measures have had to be taken. Beauty and the beast is off limits completely (I liken the line, "Marie... the baguettes... hurry up" to pouring forth salt into an open wound) and I've had to try and convince myself that scrambled eggs taste better than a bagel and cream cheese (nothing could be further from the truth) but alas, I have only twelve days left. Someone had better get the straight jacket and padded room ready... It just might come to that...

Let them eat cake,

Jessica

Figure 1.1: 

(I am on the right... yes, in the fashion forward panda shirt)