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Quinn on Nutrition: When friends come to visit

July 27, 2015

It had been a while since my BFF (Best Friend Forever) had come out for a visit. Terry and I met long ago when we were silly eighth-graders. Now we have silly memories of those days and all the years between.

I picked her up at the airport late Friday night. As she climbed in my car, I asked if she’d had a chance to eat before she left Phoenix.

"I had a snack," she said. "But I can always eat."

And away we went. It’s what we do, after all, as we pour over every detail of our lives since our last meeting.

Finding a bite to eat at 10 p.m. in our town can be a challenge. So we headed to the piano bar at the Mission Ranch. But the revelers ahead of us had apparently beaten us to the food.

"Our regular menu is not available," our waitress apologized. "But we do have dessert."

Terry and I looked at each other with that oh-well-guess-we’ll-have-to-settle-for-something-sweet look and enthusiastically accepted our fate. It was the start of a 48-hour talking and eating fest.

We giggled and talked through Saturday morning, and when we finally got dressed, it was time for lunch. Casa Nova, here we come. Brains engaged from a good night’s sleep, we piously agreed to split an appetizer and ordered a sensible lunch that included a light salad. Then we headed to a wine tasting in downtown Carmel, Calif. That of course, required a visit to Lula’s for "just a hit" of dark chocolate before we burned up some calories and cash at Parts Unknown. Sale! Score!

Snacks, laughs, and silly conversation took up the afternoon before we headed to the beach to watch the sun set on our day.

Appetites the next morning were strangely subdued. We did however manage to get a late breakfast in at Jeffrey’s in Carmel Valley (fresh fruit instead of potatoes, please). And we passed up the beer and other goodies advertised to lasso our hunger at the California Salinas Rodeo.

As I drove her back to the airport for her flight home, Terry began to tell me about weight loss efforts that had not worked for her.

"I can’t make a bunch of changes all at once," she said. "But I know what I need to do; I need to stop eating after 8 p.m. at night."

That works for a lot of people, I encouraged. Let me know how it goes.

When she was back in Phoenix, she texted me that she had arrived safely. Just to tease her, I sent back a picture of the chocolate we had sampled the day before with the caption, "Eat your heart out."

"It’s after 8 p.m.," she replied.

I realized she had begun her plan. "Lol! I’m proud of you."

"LOL," she replied.

As always, dear friend, it was fun.

 

 





 


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