Step away from the buffet!

The Sunday Brunch Buffet! It strikes terror in my heart. A culinary weapon of mass destruction. I say ixnay to any long table filled with plates. Is there a greater test of personal “will” than a buffet? A more devastating event for dreams of wearing a bathing suit? A seismic caloric catastrophy! Yet nothing says Mother’s Day like BRUNCH! I ran and hid in my closet clinging to my size 4 clothes and the life I knew…”No, no, anything but a buffet”! But it was too late…

I marched eyes staring straight ahead into the restaurant and no, I did not wear pants with a stretchy elastic waistband to join in the gastromic tsunami. I was a warrior determined to spread my mother’s brand of Jewish guilt to all the over eaters at my table; if I wasn’t going to have fun neither were they. “Don’t you think that’s enough cream cheese dear”? “Another piece of cake, really”? Then comes the stare, and trust me it’s a miracle you don’t turn to stone. I knew the drill. I was ready to face down my fellow diners and the two rooms filled with long white tables of….

Lox, bagels, caviar (in 3 primary colors!), smoked fish, oysters, shrimp, creamed and fresh fruit (why bother?), 3 bean salad (for picnics only), beets, bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, eggs benedict, blintzes, swordfish, chicken breasts, carved turkey, ham, roast beef, ribs, seafood Newberg, saurkraut (huh?), salami, herring (pickled and creamed,nicely non demoninational), a mashed potato bar (because?), and last yet least and why…cheese cubes! Anyone still hungry? Or able to breathe? Eclairs, brownies, apple struedel, sweet rolls, cream puffs, pretzels (huh again?!?), chocolate chip cookies, Oreos (tacky and Costco), marshmellows, whip cream, rice pudding, jello (for the calorie conscious?), cupcakes, chocolate mousse, pie, cake, custard, petit fours, and a CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN. Tums with your coffee?

I left with only a mild case of sugar shock and ok, ok, …. a pocket full of cheese cubes.