Okay so the low-carb thing is not for me.
I should have taken a picture of my dinner -- linguine alle vongole --- tonight. It looked so pretty: the (white flour) linguine, the parsley and lemon zest, the little cockle-clams, the amazing (white flour) french bread with a parsley-garlic-butter mash melted on it. Blue plate, green parsley, yellow zest, white carbs. It was so pretty and would have made a great photo for the blog, but I was too busy digging in to that great fat-salt-carb mix to stop and grab my camera.
I still think there is something really inherently bad about refined carbs -- and, like, why can I eat a seemingly endless amount of them? Why do you never get full when eating white flour coated in salty fat? Has it ever happened to anyone?
As my sister's girlfriend said once on a camping trip while they were digging into a giant vat of my sister's pesto pasta, which was supposed to last the weekend, "Is there an alarm bell that's going to go off and tell me to stop? Because I'm not getting any other cues."
Same thing when I worked in the food dept of a women's magazine, where the test kitchen used to make our lunch. This one lady made a lemony pesto pasta that I could eat an entire pound of, if I didn't have to share. The days when most of the staff was out on a photo shoot were dangerous.
Same thing when I first discovered Pasta Puttanesca. I was living in Italy, and I was in college, and there wasn't a lot of beer around, so maybe I was just compensating for the missing carbs, but by the time we left, my roommate and I could not only make a mean, fiery puttanesca, we could pack away an entire pound of it between the two of us.
Same thing tonight. But, as my eight-year son would say: "whatever". I was skinny and energetic on a no-dairy diet, and I'm sure I'd be skinny and energetic and no-white-flour diet. But, euw. Who wants to live that way? I'm not a model, I can eat bread and pasta and cheese. Yippee!