This is an update on my challenge to overcome excruciating discomfort when throwing away food.
My kids are doing a cake decorating class.
I’ve gained 3 pounds.
There need not be a correlation between these two facts.
But there is.
Increasingly, I leave the boys to do their cake homework themselves.
I’ll drive them to the store for ingredients and bring my kitchen up to a hygienic standard once they’ve left it in a state their eleven year-old selves consider perfectly acceptable but I do not.
But everything in-between is down to them.
I am not actually involved in the preparation of any cake or frosting except to answer questions and locate hard-to-find utensils.
So why have I gained three pounds you may ask? It is not an illogical question.
I’ll tell you.
One reason is it appears I haven’t passed my ‘have-to-lick-the-bowl/beaters/spoon-clean-or-I-might-die’ genes down to my progeny.
All that lovely, gooey, leftover batter stays in the bowl and if I chance upon it, I’m a gonna.
The dire consequences of this class get worse when you consider cake decorating inevitably produces large quantities of baked cake.
The class started out using the frosting that comes in a tub. Stuff I have, in the past, eaten happily from said tub on a bad day.
But I have now evolved a more sophisticated taste for their divine buttercream comprised entirely of shortening, butter and powdered sugar.
And therein lies the problem.
Kid-baked cakes, sublime frosting, a mother whose sugar worship leaves her willpower in crumbs, and an inability to toss any of it combine to make an unbeatable mixture.
Because I can’t let it go to waste, it goes on my waist.
I’m thinking 3lbs is pretty good in the circumstances…
So what is my solution to this Land of Candy that makes Katy Perry look like the altar girl her mother wishes she was?
I’ll tell you that, too.
As we have
frosting cake in far greater quantities than we need or desire, I have, naturally, turned to Dr. Phil.
Generally, I don’t have a lot of time for Dr. Phil, not appreciating his confrontational style, limited diagnosis borne of even greater limited intelligence and sticking plaster remedies so beloved of his kind of TV.
But I did read something in his weight loss book many years ago that I’ve found valuable.
(By the way, I don’t know what business Dr. Phil has writing a book on weight loss. He, it seems to me, needs to read his own book and take his own advice. He does not play football anymore.)
His advice was to put danger food out the way.
This really does work.
I have drawers in my bedroom, high shelves in my closet and our freezer in the garage.
Devoted to high-caloric, treat food.
I don’t go there. I don’t see it. I can’t reach it.
I don’t eat it.
(Before we go on, lest you think this Dr. Phil’s book is quite brilliant, I want to point out he had some terrible advice in it, too. Throw away your fat clothes was one such gem. That’s always been a bad idea in my experience and offends my sense of thrift. You
might will need them again.)
Most people go to their freezer in the garage and find huge amounts of meat bought in bulk or perhaps frozen vegetables.
At least, in my imagination they do.
In ours, we have five cakes, 3 plum pies, 6 pots of homemade lemon curd, three tubs of frosting, a dozen cupcakes, 2 huge sheet cakes we are holding for someone else (I hope,) 2 dozen mince pies, a sticky toffee pudding, 3 banana cakes and some ice.
Oh, and a few hotdogs.
I’m embarrassed to tell you what I have in two drawers in my bedroom but suffice to say, they are full of English chocolate, English biscuits and Girl Scout cookies.
Cakes lovingly made and decorated by our boys with homemade frosting, a need to use an over-abundance of fresh fruit before it goes to waste, a weak moment in the grocery store, goods on sale, gifts, Halloween, this stuff comes into our house far quicker than we can eat it or give it away.
It will be Easter soon and I may just start getting panic attacks.
Where will all this chocolate go, pray?
So while I seem to have conquered the ability to throw out relatively healthy food, sugar in all its guises is still defeating me.
And I have no answer.
What do you do? Do you eat it? Stop it coming into the house in the first place (if so, how) or are you able to throw it away (again, how?) Give it away (where?) Please let me know in the comments!
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