SCRATCH & SNIFF
Just so you know, this is what it comes to. One day you’re tossing a joint out the window because there’s a cop pulling up behind you, and the next you’re hurling burnt snacks into the courtyard in a desperate attempt to keep your microwave oven. What’s worse, your daughter might eventually write about it, causing you further embarrassment (unless you’re dead and no longer embarrassed about such things).
But back to my bag of kettle corn. It tasted ok, like it was golden brown, but not really burned. And if it was burned, maybe now it had less than 100 calories, so I just kept eating. Later, I found out that people had actually researched the caloric effect of burning. One opinion was that any type of cooking that results in a "burning" should lower the calories present. Another dieter advised, “If you burn the food, it tastes bad enough that you won't eat as much, thus leading to fewer calories consumed.” But I've heard that burnt things are carcinogenic, so I think you should just rub dirt on it instead for a better result.
Now you can get 100 calorie sizes of just about anything; Oreos, Lorna Doones, and Chex Mix. The science? The packaging is a safety feature guaranteed to block calories, because if you have to open another pack, you might practice self-control. Say, in between package number one and package number two you will think: I’m really satisfied with the 5 pieces of teddy grahams I just ate. I don’t need another 5, and besides, what a hassle to open another pack. I think I’ll just go to bed.
Why doesn’t my husband care about this? Yesterday when we went out for breakfast, he had a chocolate croissant as an appetizer before his cheese-loaded omelet, hash browns and way over-buttered slabs of toast. And after that, he went home and had a piece of cherry pie with ice cream. He doesn’t care about 100 calorie packs, doesn’t even know they exist, and sometimes that really burns me up. Hey! Maybe…