Paul Oberjuerge: These Are Not My Salad Days
A woman across the way from me, here in the Main Media Center, is eating a salad. Which remains me, my diet here probably doesn't rank as something the surgeon general would consider healthy.
I'm not sure I've had any roughage since I've been here. Lettuce, cabbage, brussel sprouts ... none of that. Zero. And it hasn't even been a conscious decision, which is what occurred to me when I saw this woman's salad. They just don't offer salads where I tend to grab something to eat -- the little standup sandwich joint out in the main gallery.
I wonder if she got the salad at McDonald's? They're open over there. But I tend to avoid McDonald's, partly because it's evil, partly because I probably will buy ice cream if I go in there.
Europeans generally aren't big on veggies; you've really got to work at it to get them in your diet because they likely won't be in your restaurant meal. They're a little better with fruit, but they have this thing about wanting to eat fruit in season, and this is winter.
I've had a few apples here; whenever I see one at the breakfast buffet, I grab it and stick it in my backpack. But the apples are there only about every other day. The options are oranges and kiwis, and those are a mess to eat.
Which reminds me, the Grugliasco Media Village advertises our breakfast as an "American Breakfast."
I need to figure out what about it makes it American. It ain't the undercooked hammy bacon. It's not the golden-brown (what's up with that?) scrambled eggs. It's not the cake-like stuff with white sugar on it.
Maybe the idea that it's big? That's it varied? That's it not "continental" -- which means a croissant, a roll, some jam and a glass of OJ?
Anyway, I need to work on my diet. Or not. Just muddle through the next 11 days and work on it when I get home.
My diet, of late: Cocoa Puffs for breakfast, panini Caprese (sliced mozzarella and tomatoes on toasted bread) for lunch and dinner, candy for in-between.
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