I sometimes imagine that my stomach and tastebuds have minds of their own. They seem to remain quiet at a very low-key level through the oatmeal, fresh fruit, fish, and vegetables that I consume on a regular basis. However, as careful as I am (or try to be) about consuming a healthy diet, there are those moments of wild abandon when I crave something more unusual and dangerous than an apple or glass of skim milk.
For my birthday, a friend brought a beautiful, home-made carrot cake with a rich icing made with heavy cream. The chopped walnuts, carrots, and bits of orange rind led to the self-deluding conclusion that my consuming a slice would be astonishingly healthy (insert laugh here) and wondrously good for my physical and mental health.
I should have remembered the powerful but impatient attitudes of the picky and temperamental triumvirate of my spleen, liver, and gall bladder. I can only imagine that the splash landing of that first bite would cause the three to say in unison, “What the hell was THAT?”
To appease them, I immediately swallowed a One-A-Day multiple Vitamin tablet, but it was too late. The three maniacs continued to rumble and make a big, grumbly fuss until it was time for bed, and I knocked them all out for the night with a big glass of French Champagne. I knew then by the gentle sound of their snoring down there that further appeasement would arrive the next morning with a big, healthy bowl of oatmeal to leave them singing with joy until the cheesecake dessert I had plotted to have after dinner, when another internal drama would occur. JB