The Natalie Show

Nearly 10 years ago, I all but banished white bread from my diet. Not because I’m a carb nazi but because I was (and still am) an athlete and ‘health nut’ and prefer the extra fiber and energy that whole grain bread provides. I still eat pasta (not whole grain) and even crusty Italian bread when I’m at a restaurant. Not to mention the fact that I lived in Italy for several months while I was in college and adhered to a strict beer, pizza, pasta, and panini diet that left me 10 pounds heavier-and with a liver that hated me. But whenever I purchase bread at the store or order a sandwich, it is ALWAYS on whole grain or wheat bread. Anything that’s NOT white.

As a consequence, I think that I unintentionally developed an irrational fear of white carbs that either a) aren’t masked by some type of marinara or asian sauce or b) aren’t eaten as the result of consuming one too many cocktails.

I’m borderline afraid of baked potatoes, white bread/bagels, croissants, etc. etc.

Ironically, I binge on Crystal Lite and other artifically sweetened drinks (white wine and diet sprite is a favorite. so is Vodka but that’s clear, not white) and I have an unhealthy obsessesion with Pad Thai, chicken salad, and sushi. I only eat sushi with white rice. And I’m making a conscious effort to cut out the artificial sweeteners because I don’t want to poison myself to death, even if I go up a size in my designer jeans.

So this past weekend, my fiance took it upon himself to make breakfast, but he said that he would only cook if I let him make his special french toast. I’m not a f*cking idiot so I’m not going to turn him down when he offers to make something in the kitchen. We went to the deli down the street to pick up eggs, syrup and bread. He stayed outside with Peanut and I went in to pick up the ingredients. I surveyed the bread rack and for some reason was lured by this loaf of pure white, totally processed, fluffy looking bread. It seduced me. I immediately starting fantasizing about how much better the french toast would be with this supple whiteness, instead of the brown multigrain slices that I had grown accustomed to. My frenzied thought process disturbed me, as I hadn’t bought a loaf of white bread in so long that I almost forgot that people did it.

Without thinking about it for too long, for fear of chickening out, I grabbed the loaf and threw it onto the counter along with the eggs and syrup. The cashier didn’t even look twice. He didn’t taunt or judge my purchase, but he couldn’t ring me up fast enough. I couldn’t wait to get back to the apartment to rip the plastic off of this beautiful loaf of crack bread, all the while hiding my excitement from my fiance. He consumes white carbs with such reckless abandon that I almost envy his ease with food, but that’s another topic for another time.

Back to the kitchen. Simon made the most amazing french toast I’ve ever had. Thick with eggs and the crusts cut off. But it was the white bread that really made the difference. I am now having a torrid love affair with white bread and I even bought another loaf last night. I shun the multigrain bread that is now in my freezer and I’m wondering if I’ll ever be the same again.

Supple white seducer. I love you.