The Highs and Lows of Polish Gluttony
AKA Never Watch Catwalk-Modelling After 2 Weeks At My Uncle’s House
Well, it’s finally happened, I’ve freaked out so much after watching a catwalk fashion show on TV, that I’ve started doing, of all things, SQUATS. But I am ahead of myself, for how did this distressing turn of events occur?
Our journey through Poland has been nothing if not a gluttonous one, I have to say. I suppose it was inevitable, given the Polish disinterest in such modern conceits as ‘exercise’ and ‘healthy eating’, not to mention, ‘restraint’ (a traditional polish dish, ‘szmalec’, consists of a thick layer of pure pig lard, seasoned with herbs, spread on a slice of bread). The fact that restaurants cost about a third of what they do in Australia, doesn’t hurt either.
The state of our stomachs was not off to a good start on our arrival in Poland. Following a brief stint of starvation on the train, because we didn’t have any Polish money to buy any food (and possibly would have died of dehydration, if a kindly Polish gent hadn’t given us some water), we arrived at my uncle’s house, where our first week-long eating marathon commenced. My uncle was on sick leave after an operation, so there was nothing but time in which to stay home and prepare gargantuan meals ( I also suspect my mother may have given covert instructions to fatten me up). A typical day’s menu would be as such:
Breakfast
Bacon and Eggs
Traditional Seasoned Liverwurst
A Selection of Breads
Hot Chocolate
Tea and Coffee
A Selection of Juices and Soft-Drinks
Lunch
Duck-Blood Soup with Home-Made Potato Dumplings (ahahahah I tricked Charis into eating Duck-Blood Soup!!)
Salad with Half-Pickled Cucumber, Onion and Tomato
Roasted Chicken with Herbs
Seasoned Crumbed Chicken Breast
Par-Boiled Baby Potatoes with Dill
Vienna Ice-Cream
Berry Ice-Cream
A Selection of Fruit
Tea and Coffee
A Selection of Juices and Soft-Drinks
Snack
A Selection of Soft-Drinks
French Fries with Curry-Flavoured Mayonnaise
A Selection of Ice-Creams
Dinner
Platter with Marinated Gold Baby Onions, Chilli-Marinated Garlic Cloves, Creamed Horseradish, Egg-Mayonnaise and Mustard.
Charcoal-Grilled Pork Shoulder with Herbs.
Brown Bread.
Assorted Ice-Creams and Chocolates
A Selection of Waters, Juices and Soft-Drinks
A Selection of Beers
Now, I can’t complain about the quality, for my uncle is an absolutely amazing cook, and everything tasted brilliant (how can pancakes deliberately made from off milk taste so good?!). This unfortunate brilliance, combined with the fact that everyone would launch into a tirade about our future husbands needing ‘something to hang onto in bed’ if we ate less than three plates apiece, did not result in very aesthetically pleasing stomach areas. In fact, we took photos to document the entire macabre stomach experience.
But for politeness’ sake, we gave it our best try. I mean, for gods’ sake, for dinner one night I ate no less than 5 whole eggs, some omlette, and 10 canapes. 10 canapes! But alas, even our best efforts weren’t enough. At the end of 6 days, my uncle declared that I eat ‘hardly at all’ and that Charis eats simply nothing. This after eating so much at every meal that we had to go and lie down and recover, waiting for the inevitable call that came 3 hours later, announcing more food.
But eventually the week ended, and we were free. Or so I thought. Unfortunately, I had underestimated my own gluttony in the face of extremely cheap, extremely tasty, extremely easily available food and drink. And so, while my every-day food consumption dropped by about 60%, it still came in at distressing levels, as can be seen in the gallery showing an average day’s meals. I even dragged poor Charis into my gluttonous restaurant obsession, wherein after declaring that she wasn’t hungry and would just watch me eat, she would order an entire large pizza to herself, plus a gigantic side. Truly, my powers of gluttony are awesome to behold.
Now I am back at my uncle’s house, and have resumed these trying eating sessions. Charis has escaped for the moment, but she’ll be back to face the music any week now. And so, the pudge piles up ever-increasingly.Exercise to shed to resolve this rather distressing state of affairs, I’m afraid, is not an option. I don’t have any running shoes, but even if I did, I have to admit I’m too afraid of social ostracism if I go for anything that looks like a jog. I’ve seen not one person jogging in my three weeks here, and any mention of diets ends with all coming to the agreement that the person in question has some sort of unbalanced mind. All I can do is do endless ineffectual squats and lunges and push-ups while watching movies in my room. I am driven on by fashion shows, and by Star Trek novels about genetically-engineered supermen. One day, my brilliant physique of an Ubermensch shall be regained!
But how, you ask? Well, I am now resolved to do the Jared Leto, Spend Two Weeks Consuming Nothing But Water with Lemon and Cayenne Pepper In It, Diet as soon as I reach England. And with Charis joining me in 2 weeks time from merry Switzerland, land of cheese, cheese, and cheese with mayonnaise on top, I’m guessing I won’t be the only one. But don’t worry, we’ll be sure to capture the entire torturous starvation episode on tape for the amusement of future generations.
Well, it’s finally happened, I’ve freaked out so much after watching a catwalk fashion show on TV, that I’ve started doing, of all things, SQUATS. But I am ahead of myself, for how did this distressing turn of events occur?
Our journey through Poland has been nothing if not a gluttonous one, I have to say. I suppose it was inevitable, given the Polish disinterest in such modern conceits as ‘exercise’ and ‘healthy eating’, not to mention, ‘restraint’ (a traditional polish dish, ‘szmalec’, consists of a thick layer of pure pig lard, seasoned with herbs, spread on a slice of bread). The fact that restaurants cost about a third of what they do in Australia, doesn’t hurt either.
The state of our stomachs was not off to a good start on our arrival in Poland. Following a brief stint of starvation on the train, because we didn’t have any Polish money to buy any food (and possibly would have died of dehydration, if a kindly Polish gent hadn’t given us some water), we arrived at my uncle’s house, where our first week-long eating marathon commenced. My uncle was on sick leave after an operation, so there was nothing but time in which to stay home and prepare gargantuan meals ( I also suspect my mother may have given covert instructions to fatten me up). A typical day’s menu would be as such:
Breakfast
Bacon and Eggs
Traditional Seasoned Liverwurst
A Selection of Breads
Hot Chocolate
Tea and Coffee
A Selection of Juices and Soft-Drinks
Lunch
Duck-Blood Soup with Home-Made Potato Dumplings (ahahahah I tricked Charis into eating Duck-Blood Soup!!)
Salad with Half-Pickled Cucumber, Onion and Tomato
Roasted Chicken with Herbs
Seasoned Crumbed Chicken Breast
Par-Boiled Baby Potatoes with Dill
Vienna Ice-Cream
Berry Ice-Cream
A Selection of Fruit
Tea and Coffee
A Selection of Juices and Soft-Drinks
Snack
A Selection of Soft-Drinks
French Fries with Curry-Flavoured Mayonnaise
A Selection of Ice-Creams
Dinner
Platter with Marinated Gold Baby Onions, Chilli-Marinated Garlic Cloves, Creamed Horseradish, Egg-Mayonnaise and Mustard.
Charcoal-Grilled Pork Shoulder with Herbs.
Brown Bread.
Assorted Ice-Creams and Chocolates
A Selection of Waters, Juices and Soft-Drinks
A Selection of Beers
Now, I can’t complain about the quality, for my uncle is an absolutely amazing cook, and everything tasted brilliant (how can pancakes deliberately made from off milk taste so good?!). This unfortunate brilliance, combined with the fact that everyone would launch into a tirade about our future husbands needing ‘something to hang onto in bed’ if we ate less than three plates apiece, did not result in very aesthetically pleasing stomach areas. In fact, we took photos to document the entire macabre stomach experience.
But for politeness’ sake, we gave it our best try. I mean, for gods’ sake, for dinner one night I ate no less than 5 whole eggs, some omlette, and 10 canapes. 10 canapes! But alas, even our best efforts weren’t enough. At the end of 6 days, my uncle declared that I eat ‘hardly at all’ and that Charis eats simply nothing. This after eating so much at every meal that we had to go and lie down and recover, waiting for the inevitable call that came 3 hours later, announcing more food.
But eventually the week ended, and we were free. Or so I thought. Unfortunately, I had underestimated my own gluttony in the face of extremely cheap, extremely tasty, extremely easily available food and drink. And so, while my every-day food consumption dropped by about 60%, it still came in at distressing levels, as can be seen in the gallery showing an average day’s meals. I even dragged poor Charis into my gluttonous restaurant obsession, wherein after declaring that she wasn’t hungry and would just watch me eat, she would order an entire large pizza to herself, plus a gigantic side. Truly, my powers of gluttony are awesome to behold.
Now I am back at my uncle’s house, and have resumed these trying eating sessions. Charis has escaped for the moment, but she’ll be back to face the music any week now. And so, the pudge piles up ever-increasingly.Exercise to shed to resolve this rather distressing state of affairs, I’m afraid, is not an option. I don’t have any running shoes, but even if I did, I have to admit I’m too afraid of social ostracism if I go for anything that looks like a jog. I’ve seen not one person jogging in my three weeks here, and any mention of diets ends with all coming to the agreement that the person in question has some sort of unbalanced mind. All I can do is do endless ineffectual squats and lunges and push-ups while watching movies in my room. I am driven on by fashion shows, and by Star Trek novels about genetically-engineered supermen. One day, my brilliant physique of an Ubermensch shall be regained!
But how, you ask? Well, I am now resolved to do the Jared Leto, Spend Two Weeks Consuming Nothing But Water with Lemon and Cayenne Pepper In It, Diet as soon as I reach England. And with Charis joining me in 2 weeks time from merry Switzerland, land of cheese, cheese, and cheese with mayonnaise on top, I’m guessing I won’t be the only one. But don’t worry, we’ll be sure to capture the entire torturous starvation episode on tape for the amusement of future generations.