EMM, Week Eight

Well folks, it's Friday and that means another episode in the continuing saga of Extreme Ma Makeover.

This week's weigh-in: lost 2.5 pounds!

How many ways can you say, "WOO-HOO?!"

That makes a loss of 13 pounds over eight weeks, and let me tell you, Ma is pretty stinkin' happy.

In addition, this 2.5 pound loss puts me below another "10" mark on the scale, a wonderful psychological boost.

I implemented a little trick this past week: eating half an apple right before bed. Got that off the web as a good way to keep the body metabolizing while you're asleep. No bad carbs or sugars, but the body keeps on burnin'. The real test will be this next week, when I'm due for another "no progresss" report (every other week has shown no change).

But enough about me, let's talk about the steak I had at Applebee's last night!

I've been working my way through the Weight Watchers or "Under 550 Calorie" selections at Applebee's. Last night was another goodie....Asiago Peppercorn Steak.

YUMMO!

And the funny part was that I ordered it cooked well done. I realize c'est très gauche in the world of fine dining, but I happen to prefer my beef with nary a moo.

ANY-way, the lovely-looking steak arrived and I cut into it, showing MUCHO red meat. As in, the outside was just browned but the inside looked completely raw.

*sigh*

I'm sure everyone knows my sanguine nature. I am the meekest of Ma's and hate to make waves, but just as George 41 said a few years ago, "This shall not stand."

The blood was in fact, running.

The waiter apologized profusely and took back my steak, saying they would make things right.

A bit later he returned and explained he was at fault. Another diner had requested the same steak, medium, and he had mixed up the orders. He assured me that the chef would be bringing out my new steak.

I spent the next 12 minutes inventing new ways to sink through the floor.

The steak arrived, piping hot, borne by the chef who looked suspiciously like the manager (hey, if I'm going to get special treatment, I'd like the imposing tall hat). She had me cut it open to check and it was only slightly pink, which as we all know, is the modern world's version of "well done."

It was quite wondrous to eat, however. I can take a little pink. I just don't like hemoglobin all over my plate.

While I'm playing Miss Restaurant Reviewer, I should also add that there was no ketchup at our table, and the waiter either forgot or didn't hear me ask for the Heinz 57. That was OK though. Our guy procured the red plastic bottle and frankly, I'm fine with my steak dipped in ketchup (I know...burnt AND with ketchup...what's to done with me?).

One might think that with all cette faux pas-ing, I wouldn't be leaving a tip. BUT, you don't know the soft-heartedness of Ma! (I would never boast of myself, but my friends claim me to be the most amiable of tippers).

I figure he can use the money for continuing education in the field of listening to what the customer wants.

Besides, it's worth it not having to cook or clean up.
 

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