The First Test

When I made the decision to start this 28 day food reconditioning program, I tried to pick a time frame that would be most conducive to the abrupt shock and possible anti-social tendencies that might ensue. First part of January seemed ideal, home after indulging in much good cheese and wine in southern Spain. But just as I was settling back in I got a phone call from my daughter, who graduated from Georgetown University last May. She is working in NYC and had just signed the lease for her first apartment in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. So I headed north to help move into the city.

My Clif Bar habit was already in full swing when she was in high school. I was a working single mom, and by that time she had out grown her nanny. That meant our house in CT was the preferred hang out spot for her girlfriends. The drawback was that her friends didn't think we had very good snack food. There were no cookies, potato chips or candy at our house. In desperation, they started helping themselves to my stash of Peanut Toffee Buzz Clif Bars, simply because they were adorned with a couple of swirly frosting like lines on the top. And in a testament to the broad appeal of Clif Bars, I unknowingly created a mini cult of Clif Bar Junkie juniors. Peanut Toffee Buzz became a staple at their high school lunch table. Her best friend (and soon to be apartment mate) created a special "Clif Bar drawer" at her house. I'm not sure I could have done much better if I'd planned it.

So when I told her I was giving up Clif Bars (along with gluten, dairy, sweets and alcohol), she said "Forever?"

Shopping for dinner the night before the move in an unfamiliar store was no fun. I was hungry and couldn't rely on simply buying something and eating it while shopping as I usually do in this kind of situation. While I don't mind showing up at the check out with a empty wrapper to be scanned, even I can't condone showing up with a half eaten apple core to be weighed. When I got back to the house, I was reduced to eating celery sticks with salsa. I tried to convince myself that they were delicious. Then in weak moment, I discovered the remainder of a bag of Cape Cod potato chips. No gluten or dairy there, so I easily justified it.

Lesson #2: No one ever said change is easy.