Working at a restaurant creates an interesting relationship to food. First of all, part of my job is to create verbal food porn for customers. What's the best dish? "I loooooovve our pork chop. The warmth of the curried cauliflower with the sweet tang of the cippolini onion and golden raisin chutney are amazing. They cut right through the rich pork chop creating a perfectly balanced meal. You're going to love it." Yeah, that is basically my job. I sell delicious food as a waitress at a great restaurant in Jackson Hole, called Trio: an American bistro. The food is wonderful and the chefs are always making it even better. They create food heaven and I have it in my hands 4-5 days a week. There is also the fact that often this food is available to me to eat in mess-ups or scraps. On top of that, we have what's called family meal where we are given dinner at 4:15 and eat it as a group. Trio provides probably the best you could hope for out of a family meal. There is always a salad and they try to make it actually delicious. Still, it's often a delicious burger or bulk pasta. Eating that on a regular basis just doesn't line up with my food goals. To finish of the challenge, I eat at 4:15 and then power walk around until 10 or 11 at night. A person gets hungry and there are no breaks. Restaurant life sets you up to be on a crazy food schedule with crazy food choices.
God bless the wonderful chefs at Trio who have been shifting family meal lately to meet my new dietary needs. I'm really going to miss everyone when I leave Trio to move onto life coach training and a summer focused on building my business and website. That being said, working at a restaurant is constant temptation from the soda gun to the bread I slice. Last night, as I brought carried out martinis, opened bottles of wine, described layered chocolate hazelnut cakes with mocha butter cream frosting, I thought, "Why did I publicly decide to give up my vices?! I'm an f-ing idiot!"
I held strong only because I've told you all that I'm going to hold strong. I didn't pop the left over banana bread waffle into my mouth because I promised I wouldn't. I didn't eat the left over mash potatoes because I said I wouldn't. I really, really wanted to. Somewhere floating behind my food desires I knew I had a higher goal but to be honest, when staring at the layered chocolate cake, I couldn't have articulated them for you. There was too much saliva in my mouth.