A 'Duh' Revelation

I took a little walk, down in Redondo Beach. When I got hungry, I stopped at Casa Playa for lunch.

Question. In who's world is a soft taco and a bowl of soup, a splurge? Why did I feel like I was splurging?

It's the special. Albondigas soup and a carnitas soft taco. I'm kinda feeling guilty about ordering it. Plus, two things bother me. 1. Is it healthy? 2. Will it be enough? Should I get an extra taco? Obviously, my priorities lean in one direction...

I just get it. It's the special, so they must think it's enough for somebody, right? Plus, the cute girl looks confused that I can't make up my mind. She's furling her brow. I don't want to be responsible for a crow's foot or anything. I order it, grab cups of the hottest salsa at the salsa bar, and sit.

The food's good. Brothy soup with two meatballs. An excellent taco. Good salsa (not as hot as the warning merits, though). The diet coke is the best ever. It was just filling enough.

This is my revelation: For millions of years, people have eaten less-than-optimal food and stayed lean by eating normal amounts of food.

How long has it taken me to figure out what a normal amount is? Looks like about four years.

Thirty six years of eating wrong can be relearned. It takes time. For the stomach to shrink? Perhaps. For the mind to adjust. Certainly. As my example, above, illustrated. I'm not even fully there. I'm getting there.


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