My father-in-law, the accountant, once pointed out that if you gain just a single pound each year over what I call The Eating Season (roughly November 25 – January 1), you’ll be overweight by the time you reach your 50th birthday, no matter how great you looked at 20.
Each time I arrive at a holiday party, his words echo through my head. When I think about it, I’m pretty sure I take in 3500 extra calories in desserts alone this time of year, nevermind the giant meals. But because no self-respecting party host ever displays ONLY healthy foods, and because what light choices offered usually revolve around the all-too-ubiquitous vegetable platter, I rarely make it home from a holiday shindig without feeling . . .well, fat.
We’re having a party next week, and I’m determined to come up with a few less-than-evil options for those whose food consciousness kicks into overdrive this time of year. I’m starting with little portable winter salads, really endive spears stuffed with chopped fennel, granny smith apple, and walnuts, with a meyer lemon vinaigrette and a little crab on top.
So far the only problem is getting “endive spears stuffed with chopped fennel, granny smith apple, and walnuts, with a meyer lemon vinaigrette and a little crab on top” out of my mouth before the person thinking about eating one falls alseep.
To this end, I’ve come up with a tasteless acronym for you – call them endive FAWC salads (rhymes with “hawk,” as long as you’re from the west), for fennel, apple, walnut, and crab. Swearing relieves the eater of the feeling of shame and boredome we (at least, I) associate with eating unnecessarily virtuous food at parties, and allows us to shout things like “What (is in) the FAWC?” or “What the FAWC is a Meyer lemon?” across the room.