Deny. Deny. Deny. Not only was it Bill Clinton’s favourite mantra, but too often our daily food choices are based on the dictates of healthy eating which are more about denying ourselves the pleasures of eating rather than indulging. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could live like Sumo wrestlers who equate big and fat with powerful and strong? Sadly, the dogma of healthy living is so ingrained in Boomers’ brains that every time we enjoy a wonderful, heaven-sent slice of German chocolate cake, crispy bacon or a deliciously overflowing and dripping butter pecan ice-cream cone, we are so consumed with guilt that it almost negates any sensory pleasure we might experience.

A few years ago I watched a TV program called You Are What You Eat featuring British health guru Gillian McKeith. Her commitment to educating common folk on the error of their eating habits was both inspiring and off-putting. She once produced a galvanized bucket of salvaged pig parts including snouts, teeth, eyeballs, tails, anuses and other lovely bits and informed us that this amalgam represented the contents of a wiener. That visual was enough to put me off eating hot dogs for years. We are constantly warned not to eat deli meats, to eschew sugar and bad carbs, and avoid anything processed or packaged lest we burn in hell while downing a Big Mac. What’s the fun in going to the movies if you can’t enjoy the chemical-laden popcorn and a gallon of ice-cold Diet Coke?

Generally, I’m very conscientious about what I eat. I do all the right things, most of the time, but let’s face it, what’s life if you can’t treat yourself to half a dozen Timbits once in a while. So after years of abstention, I recently descended into the depths of hell and bought myself a Costco hot dog . . . and giant Diet Coke. They were soooo wooooonderful. Sure, they made me feel bloated, burpy and uncomfortable afterward, but, damn they were good. And at less than two dollars for the combo I should get a Canada Council Grant for my economic virtue. The wiener was long, fat, hot and juicy and the steamed bun was warm and soft thanks to the (in some countries banned) azodicarbonamide (rubber used in yoga mats and sneaker soles) content. I piled on the fake, chemical and sugar-laden condiments and enjoyed a feast of culinary and nutritional depravity. To misquote Marie Antoinette, “Let us eat cake”, before we lose our heads. What harm can it do at our age.

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