That’s it, pancit

WHILE waiting for Supertyphoon Betty… Hmmm. Waiting gyud? Better this: While preparing for Supertyphoon Betty, there I was, switching to a clean low-carb diet, which meant absolutely no sweets, not even the low-carb goodies. But then, there was the culmination for Press Freedom Week and somehow I knew dinner would have a dessert like leche flan. Would I be able to say, No, I’d rather have more lechon?

Eating out and attending parties are low-carb dieters’ challenges. Just when I’m behaving at home with a strict low-carb diet, once I step out of the house, I could already imagine the yummy goodies that await me: croissants, ube turon, mango mambo, vanilla cream latte, ice cream. Yum! And that’s a “yum” complete with hearts in my eyes.

It’s a no-added-sugar ice cream, by the way, for less guilt which is my exact same justification for Coke Zero.

I guess that day of clean low-carb meals while at restos, cafes, and parties is not possible, so, I’ve chosen to savor those moments when I’m with family and friends. Besides, I don’t ram this diet down anyone’s throat. If someone asks me about it, I simply share this tip of the iceberg: say no to carbs. That’s it, pancit. Er, no, not pancit. Avoid pancit.

If there’s pancit, feast on its shrimp, chicken, pork, and the other meats and seafood that are mixed with it, and leave the pancit alone.

A low-carb diet is definitely a struggle at first. I had been eating carbs since birth. My favorite snacks were Chippy, peanuts, and Coke. And, burgers, pasta, and sandwiches like my favorite McChicken Sandwich with large fries, large Coke, hot fudge sundae, and apple pie. So, to stop eating all that was torture. Goodbye, McChicken sandwich. Goodbye, Burger King Whopper. Goodbye, Mamou’s Lorenzo’s truffle cream pasta.

Hello, bulalo. Hello, crispy pata. Hello, rib eye steak. Hello, lechon. Hello, roast beef. And that’s how I discovered real food is yummier, and they don’t give me a sugar rush, after which, say, two hours later, I’d be craving sugar again. Thus, I was eating at least six meals a day: breakfast, morning snacks, lunch, afternoon snacks, dinner, and midnight snacks.

Perhaps you’re shocked by this revelation. At least six meals a day?! For which I may react with, Did I say, males? I said, “meals,” right? Because your shock seems like I misspelled the word.

Try counting the number of times you’re eating in one day. Include everything: that time you were mindlessly munching peanuts while computing taxes, that hour when you were sipping 3-in-1 coffee while answering phone calls from suppliers and clients, the post-lunch drowsiness you tried to fight by eating chocolates, the potato chips that helped you avoid road rage while stuck in traffic, the popcorn that made a Netflix series more interesting. That’s already five meals. They may not be breakfast, lunch, or dinner, but they’re snacks and they should be included in the count since those calories could add up.

I’m now down to two meals a day: brunch and dinner. Which may sound ho-hum to the high-carb dieter. But I have more time now for reading, writing, and spring cleaning.