As a hardcore weightlifter, I am a protein junkie. It usually takes the form of dead animals, although post workout protein shakes make their way into the diet as well.
Never, ever, will I refer to my giant turkey sandwich or the two cans of dry tuna on wheat as a “protein sandwich”.
Last year, my husband turned into a vegan when his cholesterol was high. I am not. I like meat and dairy products.
A few weeks ago, he wanted to surprise me for dinner. He took me to one of his favorite new restaurants.
I can handle not eating meat, but I don’t like tofu.
I ordered a salad from this restaurant, but it had some sort of strange salad dressing on it.
Then my husband got us Kung Pao Fake Chicken dish. Ughhh. I like regular Kung Pao Chicken. After we ate at this restuarant, my stomach was upset all night long.
I’m not overweight, and I don’t have high cholesterol, so I can eat meat.
I noticed in an article in the Readers’ Digest on saving money while entertaining. One hint was to buy your “protein” on the days the butcher discounts that particular item. I thought it sounded pretty silly. Is a new term for butcher now “protein processor”?
“Johny, shut up and eat your sphingomyelin!!!”
When I was young, I was happy to leave knowledge of carbohydrates, protein and fats up to chemists. I couldn’t have gained weight to save my life. After thirty, when the fat started coming, I started the long, arduous task of learning about what I should and shouldn’t eat. Now my blood sugar, once the domain of doctors, determines my diet, and a good portion of that diet is protein.