As Thanksgiving approaches I, once again, try to figure out a way to do something that I have never managed to do in my adult life – enjoy Thanksgiving dinner without making myself feel sick. I know it seems like it shouldn’t be that difficult, but for some reason I always just have to have that one last bite that puts me over the edge. I’ve tried taking smaller portions in an effort to get a taste of everything without going overboard, but inevitably there are one or two things that I need to have just a little bit more of. It’s not that I don’t notice when I’m getting full, quite the contrary. I know the exact point at which I need to stop, I just completely ignore all the big red signs and sirens going off in my head. You’d think that I grew up in a house where there was never enough food, and I’m storing up just in case.
I like to think that my Russian ancestors would be shocked and amazed at the amount of food that I have to choose from at all times. So for them, on this one gluttonous day, I’m taking one for the team and overeating for all who came before me who went hungry.
(That justifies it, right?)
