Insult to Injury

Tony's Restaurant in Birch Run, Michigan is known for the pound of bacon which comes with it's breakfast entrees. Me brother Phil is known to eat ravenously. Indeed, he takes a certain pride in that.

The two of us were in the northern part of the state making an early delivery yesterday. On the way home I said, let's stop at Tony's. We have time. Full disclosure: maybe we didn't really have time, we've been so busy. But dammit, you're only near Tony's every now and then, so, priorities.

We ordered a platter each of scrambled eggs, a heap of them, a ton of hash browns, and toast with Tony's strawberry preserves. I'm not huge on strawberry but their homemade preserves are fan-bloody-tastic. Of course, the pound of bacon came with it all.

About halfway through our meal the waitress came by to check on us. She left us, of her own volition, take home trays. We didn't request any.

"I am personally insulted by that," Phil said indignantly.

"Huh?"

"Like I can't eat this whole platter at one sitting. But maybe she doesn't know me."

Your reputation doesn't proceed you everywhere, bro.

Dietary temptresses

Tuesday morning I had to go to Gaylord, Michigan. I stopped at Birch Run just past Flint to grab a bite to eat, thinking I would go to Tony's Restaurant. You get a pound - that's right, one pound - of bacon with every meal. Yes, that sounded good. Eggs and toast and hash browns and all that nice salty bacon. Then I reminded myself I was under orders to cut down drastically on my salt intake.

Cue the Homer Simpson moan of total despair. Oooooooooooooh. So I went into a nearby Tim Horton's and ordered a dry, toasted bagel and a bottle of water. Those who know me know that that alone required an act of supreme will: Marty simply does not go into Timmy's and not leave without an extra large black coffee. Yet as I had burned my coffee quota before I was barely out of Detroit, water would have to do.

Yesterday morning I had to go to Springfield, Ohio on business. I was meeting my friend Mark for breakfast at the local Cracker Barrel. What would I have: the double meat breakfast with sausage and bacon, scrambled eggs, and biscuits and gravy? Or do I opt for the Uncle Herschel's, with hash brown casserole, biscuits and gravy, and a big slab of hickory smoked cured ham steak?

Heavy sigh. I had a bowl of oatmeal and a muffin.

Heading home up US 68, I thought of this Amish store north of Bellfontaine. It's a neat little store with Amish furniture and Amish arts and crafts. Plus it has an impressive food section, where among other delights of the palate you can buy absolutely the best chocolate covered raisins on Earth. I mean, these things put Raisinets to shame; I decided I'd stop in and buy some. You can eat them like potato chips.

Like. Potato. Chips. Another snack I can't have with any regularity. And these raisins are a double whammy: caffeine and processed sugar are in milk chocolate. So I drove past the Amish store. But I swear it gave me a sly wink and a come hither look as I went by. I didn't know anything Amish could do that.

Yes, I know it's for my own good. But right now, today, this new diet is just harshin' my buzz, dude.