Learning to accept my frugal fuel needs

I’m up to 56.6 pounds lost since Jan. 18. Which means it’s time to cut my food intake again, according to the Weight Watchers plan I‘m following.

It’s weird to come to grips with just how little food I really need to sustain the smallish frame underneath all that padding I’d accumulated. As a food lover, it’s been quite an adjustment. But as a frugal person, it’s like trading an SUV in on an economy car.

I’m learning to accept that food is fuel, but I like the idea of concocting my own formula for the most satisfying mix of nutrients. Among my favorite fuel components thus far:
    -- a tablespoon of peanut butter (2 points) with six chocolate chips (half a point), either on a spoon or a thin whole wheat bagel (2 points)
    -- half a cup of fat free refried beans (1 point) topped with salsa (O points) and maybe a tablespoon of salsa con queso (1 point)
    -- a three egg-white omelette with veggies and ketchup or salsa (1 point).
    -- raw spinach and half a slice of cheese on two slices of low-cal bread (2 points)

These components provide the framework of my daily fuel intake, and because I like all of these things a lot, I don’t feel deprived. I do sometimes set aside a few points for a special “spotlight” food, such as a cup of Great Value fat free ice cream with a tablespoon of peanut butter and a tablespoon of Hershey’s chocolate syrup (5 points) or a Wendy’s baked potato with margarine spread and reduced fat sour cream (7 points).

The funny thing is, the line between the fuel framework and the food taking the spotlight inside that “frame” can be blurry. Though I usually reserve my peanut butter ice cream sundae for Monday nights, after my Weight Watchers weigh-in, points-wise, it falls within accepted parameters for a meal. So this morning, when we were out of milk, I decided to add 1/4 cup of dry oatmeal “sprinkles” to my peanut butter sundae for a tasty six-point breakfast that, while technically a dessert, still provided protein, calcium, fiber and a smattering of vitamins. (Not to mention a whole lot of satisfaction.)

Framing foods can also be a great way to deconstruct them in such a way that they begin to lose their power over you. Take McDonald’s quarter pounder with cheese. Every once in a while I’ll have one of these on Monday nights, when I’ve saved most of my points for after weigh-in. But I don’t have them as much as I used to, because I’m no longer convinced this burger delivers 12 points’ worth of satisfaction.

The problem is the bun. I love bread, and could never deal with the Atkins diet for that reason. But I’ve always preferred breads with substance over poofy white clouds, and now whenever I find myself holding a quarter pounder, I can’t help thinking how many points you could cut out of this sucker with a whole grain thin bun. It would taste better, too.

And as for the burger itself, I’ve had some mighty fine veggie burgers in my day. After you load on the cheese and veggies and condiments, it seems like all you really have is a protein disk underneath. So is it really necessary to kill an animal and consume extra fat, calories and cholesterol for one kind of protein disk over another?

Nearly a century after some now-forgotten vice president* quipped that what this country really needs is a good five-cent cigar, I say it’s time to up the ante: What this country really needs is a really good whole-grain vegetarian version of a quarter pounder with cheese.

*Thomas R. Marshall, a democratic governor from Indiana who, unlike Evan Bayh, went on to become vice president. He served under Woodrow Wilson, from 1913 to 1921.