It has come to my attention that when you're writing a dessert cookbook, you will put on a lot of weight. Seems pretty obvious. I, however, was under the impression that I possessed some sort of magical metabolism that could absorb the extra calories and channel this new wellspring of energy into learning a great new skill, like carpentry or Mandarin. Turns out, that's not how it works. Turns out the only skill that interests you is how to break your previous pie-eating record.
Before I started writing this book, I ate dessert only a few times a week. Okay, yeah, sometimes I'd have double portions if Red happened to make her lemon cream tart or BFF made her dulce de leche ice cream pie because they're such great cooks and they don't judge me like you do, Internet! And the holidays don't count, either, because sometimes you just have to eat a whole tray of fudge. YOU HAVE TO!!! (Storms off crying)
The occasional indulgence doesn't matter all that much, really, but now? Now I eat multiple servings of dessert every single day. In the past three months, I've gained 10 pounds. That's nearly a pound a week! You can't argue with the scale. In that same period of time, Husband lost 25 pounds. Twenty-five! He dropped it like most men drop trou—without any hesitation whatsoever. How did he do that? By not eating any of my desserts, that's how. And by adhering strictly to the tenets of the South Beach Diet. Can you believe that jerk? That sexy jerk? Fuck him! (Storms off crying)
Point is, I haven't weighed this much since I had another human being growing inside me. What's more, this book requires another nine months of gestation. At that rate, I'm set to gain 30 more pounds. While I'm not fat at the moment, if I do gain those 30 pounds (and I think it's reasonable to expect that I won't get any taller), I will meet the definition of "clinically obese." All while working out five days a week! (Shoves cookies into pocket then storms off crying)
What to do? What to do? I really can't exercise more than I already am. I can barely keep up this pace as it is. And I can't not eat dessert. I could eat less, maybe, but then I would argue that the quality of the book will suffer. Because sometimes, readers, if I can be frank for a minute, I just want to get the recipe done. Just get it done and say it's fine as it is, but it's not fine, it's too sweet or too dry or too mealy, so I make it again but then it's way too smooth, so unbelievably smooth it's creepy, and it's not until the 15th or 16th bite that I finally admit it to myself.
So hi, everyone, and welcome to the Emotional Rollercoaster of 2012. Because I can't just be happy. I can only be happy with an equal and opposite amount of angst.
Maybe you could put on a business disguise and cruise around office parks. Walk in like you belong there. Swing by the kitchenette "on your way to your desk", drop the treats, pretend that you're heading for the ladies room, and keep going out the door before anyone can demand to see your keycard.
I look forward to the release date so I can do some solidarity suffering. Misery + butter + sugar, mmmm.
Posted by: Janet | January 06, 2012 at 03:20 PM
I swear to God, if you don't send me one of those recipes to try, I'm going to blow up your favorite meat CSA.
Posted by: Fish Sauce Hater | January 06, 2012 at 03:31 PM
I am in love with this post.
Also, can you bike to work? Between the actual work-out of daily biking and the adrenaline rush from fear of getting destroyed by a car, you might be able to keep to whatever weight you see as your ideal.
Posted by: Phoebe | January 06, 2012 at 03:48 PM
"I can only be happy with an equal and opposite amount of angst." I actually have that tattooed across my back.
Great post and your scale is clearly broken.
Posted by: Easy Ed | January 06, 2012 at 04:54 PM
Maybe you should set up "meet and greets" and we could all eat your desserts!?
This is exactly why I do NOT bake. I would be the one eating it all. Eating it before it cooled off in the case of cookies. Before anyone in the house knew there were cookies. And there'd only be half the number of cookies the recipe said because that's how much batter I eat as I'm putting it together.
I think I've made my point.
Posted by: NancyB | January 06, 2012 at 08:05 PM
Great post. (Storms off laughing)
Posted by: Don Chase | January 07, 2012 at 10:42 AM
Wow - I feel your dilemma - that's a tough one! And your husband is definitely not helping out, he should be morally supportive and at least put on a couple pounds instead of losing 25 ;) ! Great post, and good luck with the battle...
Posted by: Anne | January 07, 2012 at 06:58 PM
When I was working on the recipes for my book, I met a woman at a dinner party who said, "I have a friend who writes cookbooks- she's an expert! She even does that thing you're supposed to do where you take a bite of each cookie and then spit it out so you can taste it without gaining weight." I couldn't help but let out a gasp with my, "the thing you're supposed to do?" I thought I might be the only one actually eating the food that I was testing for my book. I'm glad to hear I'm not alone. And to this day, I've never been able to do that thing (spit it out).
Posted by: Alana | January 10, 2012 at 07:00 PM
Take one bite for testing, one bite for pleasure, and send the rest to me ...
Posted by: Susan | January 11, 2012 at 08:52 PM