Day 1: A Fiesta in My MouthDude food lesson No. 1: Mexican is pretty much an honorary food group
The first morning of my foray into manly eating, I peer into my near-empty fridge. Nary a fresh vegetable in sight. Perfect, I think. I 'm ready to go. I grab the biggest bowl in the cupboard and pour cereal until it overflows. I plop down on the couch and flip on the TV. This is going to be a cinch.
I text my brother to let him know that I've started my eating plan. "Your local Taco Bell thanks you," he types back, reminding me that Mexican is basically a dude's default cuisine.
The sparse offerings of my fridge give me just enough to whip up a couple of cheese quesadillas in less time than your average commercial break. Though my brother's words echo in my mind, I can't bring myself to hit up Taco Bell quite yet. Instead, for dinner I order from my neighborhood Mexican joint -- a rare treat. Though my masculine instincts point me toward the wet burrito, I quiet them and opt for my favorite dish, a generously portioned platter of chicken enchiladas. Baby steps, I tell myself I slather sour cream over my cheese-filled tortilla tubes and wonder if I'm about to have the best week of my life.
I stop eating about six tortilla chips short of feeling uncomfortably bloated. I'm full, satisfied and my Mexican platter has given me all the energy I need for this evening's activity: a Netflix marathon. Though my mind wanders during my TV binge, and I realize, if I'm honest with myself, I'm only a few hundred calories over what I normally consume in a day. I guess old habits die hard, but I'm starting to see the light: I can eat whatever I want without consequence -- or so I think.
Time spent preparing food: 7 minutes
Calories consumed: 1,860
Current mental state: Like I'm king of the world
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