Gluttony is not your fault. If food wasn’t this good, we wouldn’t have a problem. That’s why I’m blaming the food, the farmers who grew it, the chefs that made it and God for creating it. But as a true foodie and glutton, we know that behind all the sharp digestive pains, gassy sleeps, acid reflux, excruciating bathroom trips, cold sweats, and compulsive vomiting, it’s worth it.
There is never a bad time to become a glutton. I suggest starting on New Years Day when all the suckers have turned to dieting. More food for you! While you are hung-over on the couch, pondering if everything could be easier over a bucket of fried chicken, be proactive. Organize a big Greek lunch at Taverna Tony in Malibu.
Eat: hummus, melitzanosalata, taramosalta, 2 grilled Octopus tentacles, 9 pieces of calamari, a Greek salad, 5 grilled vegetables, sixteen pieces of pita, baklava, 5 mouthfuls of bougatsa, and… 3 mimosas.
Does you’re body need this? Of course not. Should you say “no” when the meal is over and you top it off with another order of fried calamari? (It’s your goddamn suggestion.) And when you are rolled away and put in the back of a car where you ooooh and boohoo with stomach pains do you stop there? No. 2 hours later go to the movies, order popcorn drowning in butter and eat it all by yourself. Who’s the piglet? You are!
Wake up nauseated by the thought of food. In spite of this, have a smoothie and fried egg sandwich for breakfast before heading to Laguna. By 1:30pm you will be wondering if a small animal has crawled into your stomach and died. Ignore this feeling. Meet friends for lunch at The Rooftop, where not wanting to be rude, you scarf down salmon, Asian slaw, a side of chips, fish salsa and a mojito. Just to be polite.
By dinner you are sure a baby whale is lying dead in you’re gut. This is normal. On the way to dinner complain that you’re too full to eat, but when you get there exclaim, “Oh I didn’t know we were going to Tabu Grill! It’s one of the best restaurants in Orange County according to Zagat.” So, after a cranberry and goat cheese salad, yellow fin poke, flourless chocolate cake, a few glasses of wine and some champagne, push your plate aside and loudly say, “Ah that was just right”. This is of course a lie as you have already undone the top button to your skinny jeans and pulled the zipper half down allowing your new muffin top to rest comfortably over the edge.
2:30 am you should be writhing in bed, ridiculously uncomfortable with an abnormally large mid section. At 9am wake up to noxious fumes of onions, cheese, cream, bacon, butter and FAT. You will want to hurl but don’t. You have not yet maximized your gut’s full potential. An hour later sit down to a brunch of egg frittata with potatoes, ham and cheese and a mushroom tart oozing cream, sherry, butter and more cheese. Eat a piece of both. Difficulty re swallow the masticated bites forcing their way back up your throat.
By 3:55 pm you will be on the 405 back to LA when you empty your mid-day snack of Doritos and chocolate milk out of a plastic bag. (Advanced gluttons may consume these items now.) 4:00 pm it hits you. Clutch your plastic bag as you exit for a bathroom while acidic burps act as a warning sign for the explosion that is about to occur. Ten minutes later insert head into dirty public toilet and spew the mushroom tart, cheese frittata and a bit of that Asian slaw. Pull out any shredded cabbage that may have become lodged in throat. At 4:18 pm, near LAX, upchuck the slaw, tuna tartar, and an octopus tentacle into your faithful plastic bag. Asian flavors will be strong. Spend the rest of the night devoting your time between the bathroom floor and puke stained couch. By morning you may be weak but you will be ridiculously thin.