Eat This, Not That is a mouthwatering guide to human vice. It presumes Americans will never kick our horrible habits, so we might as well try to modify them.
From this book, I learned that it's safe to "run to the border" - as long as I choose Taco Bell's fresco offerings and avoid any item labeled stuft. (Other menu code words for dietary doom? Sweet and sour and smothered.)
The book dubs Panera's Italian Combo, with its 56 grams of fat, "a weapon of mass destruction." It warns against the "hidden danger" - 953 calories! - of veggie burgers.
And as a helpful hint for those with sweet teeth, Eat This, Not That reveals that Krispy Kreme makes a whole-wheat glazed doughnut with 2 grams of fiber. That's practically health food. I'll take two.
Help on the way
In the coming months, diners in Philadelphia and South Jersey will be able to leave The Calorie King and his companions behind. Both the city and the Garden State have enacted laws requiring chain restaurants to post nutritional information at eye level - the better to make you carefully contemplate that Starbucks muffin-and-mocha.
Philadelphia's effort, sponsored by health-conscious City Councilwoman Blondell Reynolds Brown, will roll out in stages in the coming weeks. Beginning April Fool's Day, even clueless fast-food fanatics will learn the difference between a Big Mac and a Whopper Jr.
(When in doubt, skip the fries. Your heart will thank you.)
Jon Corzine signed a similar law on his way out of the New Jersey governor's office this week, a winning move by the losing candidate.
This time next year, it should be impossible to get a Cinnabon in Cinnaminson without a side order of reality. To remain blissfully ignorant about those empty 730 calories, you'll have to drive over the bridge to Bucks County.
Truth in advertising
