Food critic Nancy Leson takes the low-carb challenge
My food preferences are the stuff those diets are made of: imported cheeses! All-you-can-eat sashimi! Meat, meat and more meat! But I have a problem most would-be dieters don't have. I get paid to eat — everything.
So when my editor began howling about the piles of low-carb-diet info engulfing her desk, I saw my "in" and pitched a story idea: I take a week off from reviewing and stock up on the low-carb products flying off supermarket shelves. I read "Dr. Atkins' New Diet Revolution," forgo the two-week induction phase (knowing I only have a week to maintain a "low-carb lifestyle"), and in the name of journalistic science try to lose a few pounds. Her reply? "Knock yourself out."
Day 1
6:30 a.m.: I wake to the scent of coffee and the sight of my husband eating a pumpernickel bagel. I turn to my Atkins Morning Start Banana Walnut Harvest breakfast cereal ($5.69; 5g net carbs) and pour the recommended 2/3-cup dose with non-fat milk. The box reads "no added sugars," but the cereal is seriously sweet thanks to the "banana flakes," which taste like the smell of banana peels left in a lunchbox overnight. I chew. And chew. And chew some more. This stuff doesn't want to go down. I eat half and toss the rest.
Noon: I open a bag of "lightly salted" GeniSoy Low Carb Tortilla Chips ($3.99; 8g net carbs per 15 chips), grab a container of store-bought baba ganouj and have at it. Who knew? These crunchy seed-speckled chips are as light as they're delicious. Oh, yeah, we've got a winner.
School's out: Junior's hungry. I stir up a pot of Annie's mac 'n' cheese and test the pasta for "doneness." (What did you expect me to do, throw it against the wall?) He eats the mac 'n' cheese. I break out the Dannon Light 'n Fit Carb Control Peaches 'n Cream yogurt ($2.59 for four 4-oz servings; 3g net carbs each). At first it tastes light, creamy and peachy-fresh, but then the chemical aftertaste of Splenda — the low-carb dieter's sweetener-of-choice — hits hard. Blech.
6:30 p.m.: Searching though a stack of low-carb cookbooks, I find and prepare the perfect recipe for tonight's diet-dinner delight: "Baked Fish in Parchment with Julienne Vegetables" (see related recipe). Excellent, says me. My high-carb family begs to differ. The kid: "Ewww. What's that white stuff?" (Fat from the salmon.) The husband, looking pained: "It could use a little, uh, flavor."
Day 2
7 a.m.: I toast a slice of Oroweat Carb Counting Multi-Grain Bread ($3.39; 6g net carbs per slice, but who's counting?) and butter it with restraint. One bite, five chews and a spit-in-the-sink later, the cliché "tastes like cardboard" comes immediately to mind. Fortunately, I have a backup: Franz Smart Nutrition reduced-carb bread ($2.49; 4g net carbs per slice) "packed with inulin" — whatever that is. Flavorless, but at least it's edible. (After a bit of poking around with my nutrition-conscious friends I learned the mystery inulin is a soluble fiber that is sometimes added to processed foods for improved texture and "mouth feel" or to enrich fiber.)
1:15 p.m.: Here at the office I've managed to walk past fresh bagels, a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts, ignore the samples from the Times' test kitchen, turn down an invitation to lunch and work myself into a deadline frenzy. Deserving to be slapped by the Master Dieters who'd be all over the sad state of my blood-sugar level, I head to the cafeteria and order a Caesar salad with grilled chicken, light on the dressing, hold the croutons. "Sorry," says Betty the salad lady, "We're out of chicken." I eat a hefty portion of garlicky greenery and feel vaguely ill.
Dinnertime: A simple salad, marinated grilled lamb loin and asparagus. Divine.
Day 3
7 a.m. I make a sausage and cheese omelet (outstanding), drink a glass of water (eight a day!) and head to the office.
1 p.m.: Joining friends for lunch at the Rainforest Cafe, I review my dining options with the waiter: "Are the chicken wings dredged in flour? Can I substitute veggies for the mashed potatoes? Does the salad dressing come on the side?" (So help me, I sound just like every annoying dieter I've ever known.) I settle for a Cobb salad, replete with bacon, chicken, eggs and blue cheese. Later, I snitch a spoonful of dessert before being dragged away and flogged by a large screeching monkey.
6 p.m.: The menfolk eat grilled pork chops, salad and baked beans while I eat a single chop. Damn, those beans look good.
9:30 p.m.: Alone at last, I grab a pint of Endulge chocolate-flavored "super premium ice cream" ($3.99; 3g net carbs per half-cup). The texture is almost fluffy, the flavor chocolaty but way too heavy with Splenda. Two spoonfuls are enough. I "endulge" instead in a Klondike-brand Carb Smart fudge bar ($4.69 for six bars; 3g net carbs per bar). Whaddaya know? This little treat is a veritable Fudgesicle Lite. Now we're talkin'.
Day 4
6:30 a.m.: Coffee and a hard-boiled egg tide me over till later this morning when I stop at Tully's for a "LoCarb Treat" — a small (2-oz.) banana-nut muffin ($1.95; 3g net carbs) with a mild banana flavor and surprisingly light crumb. It's the best low-carb product sampled thus far.
12:30 p.m.: Pandasia (1625 W. Dravus St., Seattle), in Interbay, is advertising handmade low-carb noodles, listed among their daily lunch specials with various proteins. Sitting at the counter, I opt for Mongolian beef ($7.50) while ogling my neighbor's lamb satay ($7.80). "How do you like the noodles?" I ask. "Pretty good," he says. Actually, they're great. Wary about the carb-count, he chats up the owner, who explains that the noodles are made with soy flour and wheat gluten and, by his calculation, have a carb count that's down 70 percent from his normal noodles. Half this rich dish fills me up.
6-ish p.m.: We're at Soprano's Pizza & Pasta, in Ballard (7729 24th Ave. N.W., Seattle). The place is adorable, incredibly family-friendly and home of the "No Dough Pizza" — among other no-carb/low-carb options. While my friendly family enjoys the "Mafia" (a pizza with the works), I take a fork to the no-dough pizza ($10.50), better described as a "no-pasta lasagna." An oval casserole houses quality meat sauce layered with my choice of pizza toppings (Italian sausage and Kalamatas) and several tons of melted mozzarella. I stuff myself silly. No low-carb beer: I asked.
Midnight: I wake from a sound sleep and spend the rest of the night uncomfortable and restless. Could it be two rich restaurant meals that have me tossing and turning? Of course I do that every day under normal circumstances, but this diet isn't normal circumstances. "There's only one kind of restaurant food," my husband reminds me before rolling over and going back to sleep: "Rich, richer and richest." Thanks, pal.
Day 5
Exhausted and feeling punk, I can't bring myself to eat a thing all day. By late evening I heat some Swanson's chicken broth: Tastes great, less filling.
Day 6
8 a.m. Busy schedule today: a children's theater production to attend; a play date to supervise; a dinner party at a friend's house tonight. Good thing I'm feeling better. I soft-boil some eggs.
1:30 p.m.: With hungry young-uns in tow I hit my neighborhood burger and teriyaki joint. They have burgers and fries, I have chicken teriyaki. Teriyaki sauce is not low-carb but I need some protein. I ignore the rice and nibble the iceberg salad.
Later that evening, at the dinner party: Would Miss Manners have called ahead to let her hostess know she was on a low-carb diet? I didn't. I sip sparkling mineral water and nosh on olives. Dinner starts with crab-stuffed shrimp over cucumber "noodles" (low-carb! How did they know?). I tell myself, "You've been good all week; surely you're entitled to a smidgen of white wine?" Don't mind if I do, and it tastes great with the next course: halibut and vegetables. I just say "no" to risotto and treat myself to dessert instead: a teensy scoop of ginger ice cream and a bite — OK, three bites — of perfect chocolate cake.
The last day
9 a.m. Bacon and eggs. Nothin' better!
1 p.m. Mr. High-Carb Lifestyle has a hankering for pasta and agrees to boil up two brands, tossing each with butter, garlic and Parmesan. I get the Atkins Quick Cuisine spaghetti (an astounding $6.49 a 12-ounce box; 5g net carbs per 2-ounce serving), while he (the dog!) eats Barilla penne. The taste (rubber bands) and texture (rubber bands) of the Atkins spaghetti make this the worst meal I've been unable to eat in years.
Snack time: The mint-flavored Pure De-light chocolate bar — "Low-Carb! Sugar-Free!" — isn't cheap ($1.99/1-1/3 ounces; 3.4 net carbs per bar), but it sure tastes like the real thing: not too sweet, no weird waxy flavor. Score one for the candy man.
7 p.m.: This is it. My last diet meal. What better way to celebrate than with a refreshing, bubbly-tasting Mike's Light ($6.49 six-pack; 2g net carbs per bottle), the new "low-cal, low-carb malt beverage"? Don't answer that. Tonight's dinner, Sri Lankan lamb curry, is outstanding, if I should say so myself. While I don't touch the rice, I do wrap fragrant hunks of lamb shank in a warm, whole-wheat, low-carb, La Tortilla Factory tortilla ($2.99 for 10; 3g net carbs each).
Next day
The Moment of Truth: I step on the scale and (praise the Lord and pass the low-carb tortilla chips) note that I've lost five pounds. I give myself a pat on the back — and a week to gain it back.
Nancy Leson can be reached at 206-464-8838 or taste@seattletimes.com. More columns at www.seattletimes.com/columnists.