It is that time of year, where the hits to this humble blog come not from disappointed Penn State fans, but from people anticipating Mardi Gras. So here is my open letter to them, and to all of you out there in furyland:
Dear all who reach this page through a google search on "paczki" and "calories":
Give it up.
The holiday is called Fat Tuesday for good reason. I am here to testify that last Mardi Gras I likely gained 15 pounds from paczki-consumption alone--and that was with a pretty big swim thrown in.
This member of the Norwestern U. Polish-American Student Association either didn't eat any of the delectable goodies she is holding, or she has very different genes from mine.
You, though, reader, if you are reaching this page through such a search, know that your midrif may or may not be able to withstand the donut fest that is February 28. But that does not mean that you should try to fit the glorious paczek (and the reason no one knows the singular form of this word is that no one eats just one) into your Weight Watchers regimen.
Sure, count your calories until then, or better yet: give up paczki for lent. But on the big day, give into your urges big time. That is what it is all about.
And by the way, recent relative silence has been because of late I have not been sure how to express my feelings about the turns life has been taking. Now I know.
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