In Loving Memory

As we enjoy the weekend and pay our respects to all the brave heroes who served in the military and fought for our country, let's also give a little respect to the courageous dieters out there. Here's my Memorial Day tribute to all of you, in remembrance of the things we've put behind us and the behaviors we have changed.

In memory of:

• all the pounds we have lost throughout the years.
• the poor eating habits we have managed to change.
• having to hold our breath to zip up those favorite jeans.

Me No Smile :(

I had a conversation the other day with one of my Russian students. After five months he remains at the elementary level and his is English is still rudimentary. In spite of that, he expressed dismay about gaining 17 pounds during his stay in the United States. He claims to be eating the same kinds of food - fresh fruits, vegetables, meats, etc. and stays away from processed foods and fast food restaurants. He goes to the gym every day for two to three hours. In other words he has not changed his habits at all since leaving Russian last January and yet he has gained weight. He blames it on the food he buys in the local supermarket.

David to be Returned to Italy

After a two year loan to the United States, the statue of David is being returned to Italy, or so the not-so-funny email that is circulating goes. Sad but not without some truth.

America ranks #1 in obesity according to major studies which compare obesity statistics in different countries. It's no wonder that Michelangelo's David has become so rotund. Huge portions, an overabundance of fatty foods, high sugar and sodium contents combined with a sedentary lifestyle contributes to American's obesity epidemic.

Our Eating Habits Started With Mom

I have a truly wonderful mother. She is up there in years but proudly boasts she can do anything her niece, who is 30 years younger, can do. And better, she likes to add. And she can.

One thing my mother did, was get me started in the wonderful world of food, both in the eating and the cooking department. My first food was chocolate. Mom couldn't resist my big brown eyes pleading with her for a taste of the 5¢ Hershey bar she was eating. She caved, and I still have a difficult time resisting sweets.

When is a Tomato Not a Tomato?

I get nostalgic remembering the days when a tomato tasted like a tomato, not the anemic looking fruit of the vine I buy in my neighborhood supermarket, not the mealy slices that gets lost in my sandwich or salad, but a juicy rich, red, sweet but tangy globe bursting with flavor. Where have they disappeared to, those beefsteak tomatoes of my youth?