Jan 19 2009
Menu of Disappointment
Some days, I shouldn’t watch TV.
It’s not just that television is the crack cocaine of entertainment. It’s not just that I have other things I’d be better applying my time to. It’s the commercials. Like the one’s for IHOP.
The International House of Pancakes was once a source of comfort and release. After I had to add hyperglycemia into the equation, IHOP became ground zero for carb bombs and territory that I should only enter if I was prepared for a great deal of hearbreak. Their menu has about 3 things on it that I enjoy that won’t spike my blood sugar. I’m not even going to talk about how many of those I like.
It’s not that I don’t know how to eat a restaurants: go for proteins over breads, eat half of my meal and take the other half home, order water and don’t add carbs with sodas or the like. But none of that trumps the tasty images of neverending pancakes or the promise of soft, fluffy crepes.
There are other restaurants that cook nothing but pain and fail. Applebee’s taunts me with their Weight Watchers menu, still in no way built for diabetics. In fact most “brass and fern” style restaurants take some careful navigation through their menus lest I trip on any sugary landmines.
But IHOP is on TV every ten seconds, trying my willpower, offering me another affordable way to damn near kill myself.
Today, I went. I did not have neverending pancakes, though I did have crepes. I haven’t tested my bloodsugar yet and I only feel a little guilty, but at least the service sucked and I’ll have something to bolster my resolve when next I see their ads on TV.
Because I can resist pancakes.
Neverending pancakes? The tool of Satan.
