Make a plan for healthier eating habits

This week has been all about the menu plan and grocery list. Please forgive my singular, obsessive focus. It’s just one of those things that’s important to me.

When I’m at the grocery store, I tend to shop by impulse: ?Look! Chervil! Why, every house needs some chervil. And?and?Passion fruit! How have I survived this long without passion fruit?? That tendency makes for terrible decisions once I get home. “Chervil? Why’d I buy this? I’ll have this stack of Pringles instead.” And it’s even worse if I don’t have a plan.

If I don?t? have a plan, I tend to buy about half the ingredients for ten meals to have over five weekdays. I get home, put everything away and wonder, how could I have spent $150 on a giant papaya, two steaks and a box of frozen toquitos? And if I shop hungry? Forget about it. There will be three kinds of boxed cereal, chips and salsa (which is terrible because I make salsa that?s way better than the shit from Tostitos), two kinds of éclairs, and a dozen other quick-and-easy snack foods. I get all that stuff because I have no concept of tomorrow or the next day or the day after that. I?m hungry now, and I want nothing that doesn?t alleviate that.

So mostly my wife does the grocery shopping, because it’s important to marry someone who bolsters your shortcomings. But if she doesn’t do the shopping, I make sure to eat before I go, and I make sure I have a menu plan and a grocery list.

Have you ever noticed a disparity between the movie that shows up from Netflix and the movie you want to watch? When you’re thinking about the movies you want to watch, you end up with a string of critically acclaimed Oscar nominees and that amazing documentary you heard about at that party. You know, the one about the landfill in Africa and the indomitable human spirit? Yeah, that one.  The problem? When it shows up at your door, the last thing you want to do is sit down with a movie about the indomitable human spirit. You want Hot Tub Time Machine because it’s all you can do to forget the day.

Cooking and food is kind of like that. Given an immediate choice, you’re likely to pick M&Ms and chocolate sauce served with jalapeño poppers and bacon instead of braised lamb with root vegetables and couscous. It’s not your fault, though. We’re wired that way.

Way back when we were just standing upright and scanning the horizon for things that could eat us, food was something we couldn’t count on. Especially calorie-rich foods like fat and sugars. When we found or killed some, it was important to eat as much as possible so our bodies could establish a calorie reserve. Who knew when we’d next see such bounty? That’s why fat and sugar are so amazing. We’re wired for them. That doesn’t mean, though, that we can’t be human about it and decide we don’t need as much fat and sugar as our bodies tell us to crave.

Which brings me back to the shopping list. When I’m without a list, I deny myself nothing. Expensive wine, snacks–everything is up for grabs. When I have my list, though, coupled with a week’s worth of menu plan, I understand I’ll be having oatmeal for breakfast, apples for afternoon snacking, and lunches of curried chick peas or a three-bean salad with baby spinach and arugula. I understand it because it’s right there in front of me, on paper. And if I look at the paper, I’m not looking at the cake that’s labeled Death by Auto-erotic Chocosyphixiation.

Honestly? Probably not. But that’s not to say you should go without. A little fat and a little sugar helps curb binge eating. The calories, mouth feel, taste and more all work together to sate us. My list, for example, is rarely without ice cream or a giant bag of Reece?s peanut butter cups. We buy, eat and enjoy them. The thing is, with a full menu plan, we don’t end up eating the ice cream for lunch or candy for breakfast. We have our dinner, put the dishes in the dishwasher and then dig into small bowls of ice cream while sitting on the couch. It’s heaven, and doesn’t come with a hint of guilt.