On Continental Breakfasts

Editor’s note: I’m posting this from Rainforest, where the internet is very, very poor. As such, I’m using Lynx, an ancient text-only browser, to do it. Apologies for any weird formatting, I’m currently assuming markup will work properly and that may not be the case. I’ll have to wait until I’m back in town to fix it.

I’m currently at a writer’s retreat, and that means grappling with eating on the road. I often have an especially hard time when I’m travelling and anything resembling the words “continental breakfast” crosses my vision. Assumedly at the hotel/inn/stolen RV I’m at, but I’m not discounting a future of breakfast crimes. At any rate, much like the English breakfast is a compilation of everything that can be fried into the saddest form of itself, the continental breakfast is where starches go to die. If you’re gluten intolerant or allergic to it, god help you. But really, god help us all.

You see, pastries are my weakness. I love pastries. To an unhealthy, but thankfully not fetishistic, degree. So when I’m at a continental breakfast I’ll grab a few. There’s a big downside, though. I also know juuuuust enough about how nutrition works, at least in relation to my body, to know that I cannot survive by cinnamon rolls alone. (Or, in the case of a continental breakfast, the world’s saddest mini muffins.) So I try to stock up on food that will help me not die of scurvy. A piece of fruit or two, that sort of thing. But wait, a body needs fiber or sad times are ahead. Okay, I’ll grab some cereal, some oatmeal. And my digestive system isn’t great, so might as well grab some yogurt, too, to restock those oh-so-necessary bacteria. Plus coffee, because it’s free and because coffee.

This is how I end up feeling fit to burst at the end of these things. It’s a struggle of cravings, but also a very large case of a little knowledge being a dangerous thing. I have to make up for nutrient-poor foods with quantity to satisfy my brain, which leads to overeating, which leads to short-term regret in the pursuit of long-term wellness. Or at least being able to digest like a normal human while I’m on a trip.

So there, my thoughts on continental breakfasts. Save yourselves, everyone. Just go down the road and find some place that will sell you a sausage and a couple bananas. You’ll come out ahead, nutrient-wise, and you won’t become a human-shaped starch, like me.

[starches away, to where the wheat gluten plays]