The End of Shame, Part 1 - Body Fat

A friend of mine recently observed, "I love bellies... I love bellies except my own". I think the saddest part of this statement is how well I relate to it. I do love bellies. I love Buddha's belly. I love the shape of that faceless guy from The Big Lebowski opening credit montage - you know him only from the profile of his enormous gut, which he wags victoriously after bowling a strike. My favorite Detroit tummy belongs to Tigers' third base coach Gene Lamont. His pot o' plenty is like a joyous beacon, congratulating a lucky slugger as he makes his way home.

All these big bellies always make me smile. So why do I feel so sad when I glance down upon my abundant abdomen?

It's funny that I've only mentioned men's tubby stomachs, but maybe that's because it's so rare for a woman to display her paunch as prominently. It's tough for us thick ladies to pass as attractive in this society, but I don't think it's much easier for guys to feel good about their girth. I also have to acknowledge that this issue seems far less troublesome to black people, who tend to wear their weight with a lot more pride. Ultimately, I think that self-respect is the key to becoming comely. I generally find miserable people unattractive, so if someone is ashamed of their shape, it follows that they won't look pretty to the rest of us. On the flip side, a happy and confident fatty can be quite dashing. Take it from me - I'm fatter than I've ever been and since I got married a month ago, I've been catching more admiring glances than in the whole rest of my life put together!

So, in the spirit of taking pride in my lipids, I have started referring to my body fat as ranch dressing. Now, as much as I love the taste of ranch dressing, it isn't my favorite form of fat. Cheese is, by far, the winner, but when I think of cheese in the context of a woman's body, I think of a yeast infection. That's not very sexy. Rather, I think that ranch dressing is the most feminine of fats. For one thing, we women love to eat it. Even the most health-conscious, Diet Coke-drinking, only-salad-for-lunch ladies among us eat ranch dressing, though they may always ask for it on the side. Ranch dressing is also quite pretty, with it's thick, buttermilky texture and cheerful flecks of green herbs and black pepper. I also like that it is fluid, that it doesn't coagulate like once-warm butter. I guess I like to think that my body fat is similarly fluid, that I can lose some and gain some, that I can squeeze in my jeans or (if I should ever be so adventurous!) up into a girdle. But mostly, I get excited when I imagine these rolls on my stomach as little sacs of ranchy goodness, because it makes my mouth water, just thinking about that exquisite, tangy flavor.

If I were a sculptor, I would make a ceramic figure on the scale of my twenty-two year old body, from when I was so skinny and frail. Then I would wrap it's belly and thighs and ass with clear glass to make it look like the shape of my thirty-one year old body and I would fill those glass voids with - you guessed it - ranch dressing. Then I'd place my awesome dressing decanter on the dinner table with a huge batch of extra greasy, double deep-fried potatoes and invite all my friends to eat. They could bring their own edible body fat self portraits, too. It would be our potluck celebration of our potbellies, and our true selves.

Minutia

If Hillary Clinton wins the Democratic Party’s nomination, I will be leading a write-in campaign for No Thanks. That way, I can still flaunt an “I Voted” sticker on Election Day.

Remember when Wheel of Fortune contestants had to spend their winnings on household goods that lay upon a spinning showcase, and there was always a life-size ceramic dog up for grabs? Usually, it was a Dalmatian. Do you know anyone who has ever owned a life-size ceramic Dalmatian? If so, is it not incredibly likely that that person was a Wheel of Fortune contestant circa 1984?

One of my few deep peeves is when “myriad” is used as a noun, because it is actually an adjective.

A character actor is a performer who is known either for consistently portraying the same type of character (e.g. Danny Aiello as That Mob Guy) or for playing myriad (not “a myriad of”) character types. The definition of a character actor is a paradox.

Go, ahead. Eat the brie rind.

Judith Regan used to run a Harper Collins subsidiary for Rupert Murdoch. She is well known for being a reprobate and has found incredible success in publishing many trashy books, like Jenna Jameson’s How to Make Love Like a Porn Star and Jose Canseco’s Juiced. She used to fuck the NYC chief of police, who was supposed to be the secretary of homeland security. But, it turned out that he was married and fucking a third woman AND conducting his affairs in an apartment complex that was reserved for 911 victims and their families, so that didn’t work out for him (nor did this scandal help his old boss Rudy Guiliani’s presidential bid). Judith Regan’s influence ripples through our culture.

What is your most loathsome cliché? Mine is “playing the race card”. I believe that we American citizens should make a compact to eliminate this phrase from all public dialogue, if only because it was borne of the OJ trial.

If Hillary Clinton becomes President, our last four leaders will be named, in order, Bush, Clinton, Bush, Clinton. Does this sound like a democracy?

Judith Regan was supposed to publish and promote OJ Simpson’s book If I Did It, including a televised interview with the man himself, in which he explains how he would have killed his wife if he had actually done it. In a rare moment of grace, the average American decided that was just a little too fucked up, and the deal fell apart.

Chutney is a relish made of fruit and spices. The fruit offers texture, but surprisingly little sweetness. Ketchup is a chutney.

Remember when Pat Sajak had a late night talk show, and a semblance of humanity?

Jose Canseco admitted to using steroids in Juiced and named a lot of other players, too. In his upcoming book, Vindicated, he is said to name Detroit Tigers right fielder Magglio Ordoñez, who rose to new heights last season when he held the highest batting average in the American League. This rumor came to light after Ordoñez and Tigers Gerneral Manager Dave Dombrowski informed the baseball commissioner’s office that Canseco had contacted Ordoñez, offering to keep his name “clear” if Magglio would consider investing in a film project. “I don’t want trouble… He must be desperate for money,” was mild-mannered Magg’s response. Vindicated will not be published by Judith Regan, who got fired last year for spewing obnoxious claims about Jewish people to a Jewish Harper Collins lawyer.

Recipe of the Week - Broccoli Cheddar Soup with Bacon

Some days, being a hot, liquid vegetable meal just isn't enough. For me, creamy vegetable soups are a winter staple, even a means of surviving these dark, cold months. But when it's 12 degrees outside, as it is right now, I need some meat and cheese to bulk up that broth. I need fortification!

The great thing about soups is that you can replace almost any ingredient with another that you prefer - garlic for onion, perhaps or even water for broth. Certainly, you can substitute pork bacon for turkey bacon- just don't bother with the oil when you cook it (it has enough fat on it's own). Or do away with the meat altogether and just cook the onion in oil. What is essential to this meal is that it contain broccoli, cheese, flour for thickening, and milk or cream. Subtract any of these and it just won't feel right (sorry, Vegans).

Don't forget that broccoli is still the star of the show. Using frozen broccoli is acceptable, but fresh is always better. Steaming is my preferred cooking method.

Broccoli Cheddar Soup with Bacon
4 servings

3 – 4 strips turkey bacon, minced
1 tbsp. oil
1 medium onion, chopped
¼ cup flour
1 ½ cup broth
1 ½ cup milk
1 cup grated cheddar cheese
1 cup broccoli, cooked
Handful croutons (optional)

Cook minced bacon and oil in a deep saucepan over medium heat until crispy. Remove bacon bits and put aside.

Sautee onion in leftover bacon oil until tender, about 10 minutes.

Stir in flour until well blended

Add broth and milk and cook over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, until thickened, about five minutes.

Stir in cheese until melted. Then cook for another minute or two until the soup is thickened to desired consistency. Add cooked broccoli before serving. Garnish with bacon bits and optional croutons.