No Keto for Me: I Need Bread
Because carb-sparing makes me sad and I’m prone to depression.
A lunch date had been planned and the day had arrived. We were thrilled that it was nice enough to eat outdoors. The waitress brought a basket of warm bread. The soft scent of granular goodness wafted from under the hunter green cloth napkin used to cover it. I felt a jolt of happiness, thinking how good it would feel to drink hot coffee with my warm, buttery bread.
I peeked under the cloth coverlet and spied a single large rye roll nestled among wheat butter rolls and hot cross buns. I decided that piece of hot, dark bread would be mine. Trying to be generous and civil, I thought to myself that if everyone wants the same roll, we’ll ask for more. I soon found out it would not be a problem. No need to request more. In fact, just as I was about to dive in, one of my lunchmates requested that the breadbasket be taken away.
For several seconds I froze — shocked, not sure what to do next, on the brink of anger but pushing it down.
“Excuse me,” I said. “I’d like some bread.”
I saw what looked like astonishment, then subtle anger, and maybe even a little derision pass over the face of my lunchmate. She then insisted that a piece of bread be put on my plate and that the basket of carbs be gone as…
