Eating Japanese

It seems that New Yorkers who live in the City tend to be much more slender than their middle-America counterparts. And yet, New Yorkers eat out alot. Perhaps it has something to do with the amount of walking New Yorkers endure. Very difficult (and not very economical) to drive SUVs around Manhattan.

Cityfolk can gauge where tourists are from by the size of their bellies. One can stand at any given point in Times Square, and a conversation like this will occur: "What do you think? Wisconsin?" Nah, gotta be Wyoming. The thighs. Just look. We see the American appetite gone bad, first-hand, on a regular basis.

But hubris has a way of correcting things. It happened when Taeko, my Japanese friend, came to visit New York City. And when I offered Taeko a serving of Belgian fries, she gasped.

"I forgot how much food Americans eat! I have to adjust my appetite for this visit!"

I stared down the rather benign-looking portion of "large" Belgian fries and mayo, and realized they were the size of maybe two McDonald's large fries.

"Oh," I said.

Then we went to Mamoun's and ordered a falafel.

"Still so big!" uttered Taeko. "I can't finish!" She must not be made of the stuff of that Coney Island hot dog-eating champion, I thought.

Then after Taeko left for home, which is somewhere near Osaka, I decided to adjust my portions of food to more, um, normal-sized portions. Bigger is not necessarily better. But I still eat the same types of foods. Pasta, cheese, wine, rice, beans, eggs, etc. (Note: because LaMai's household is not fond of industrial meat farming, we choose to purchase meat only from small farms, which is hardly ever. So our diet is largely vegetarian. But it's very starchy. I am, after all, Cuban.) I am happy to report that "eating Japanese" has made a lighter LaMai.

Perhaps we should aim less to eat (and walk) like New Yorkers, but more like the Japanese?