Calling my name….

It is cold and overcast in Gauteng.  I did not have a proper breakfast and I’m hungry.

Then I had to go to the shops to buy coffee, sugar and milk for the office.  Why this is always my responsibility I do not know – I suppose it is because I’m the only female working in the building.

And then it happened – I walked past a King Pie and those pies were calling my name.  Those buttery, crumbly pastries with the juicy tender little cubes of meat with that tangy pepper gravy and those little soft bits of carrot and potato.  And the smell in that kiosk – how extremely warm and inviting on this cold and miserable day.

And my eating devil on my left shoulder says to me: “Go on, you can have one, you ran 12 kilometers last night and you are going to run another 8 kilometers tonight.”

But good sense prevails because I know the reality of a King Pie is a lot different from the vision I had about cubes of just meat with no fat or gristle.

But then I walked past Woolworhts and they have pies as well and it is a much better quality than the King Pies and then past Pick’nPay’s pies which is also not a bad quality.  My little eating devil was busily creating views of pies with pepper steak in or a chilli chicken one or even a sausage roll and telling me that I deserve it because I’m running hard and obviously my body needs something in those pies and therefore the craving.

However this morning my good eating angel on my right hand shoulder took a stand and told me that I do not need that pie.  It is cold and I’m hungry and a pie is the perfect comfort food.  A pie is full of fat and butter and after eating one I’ll only feel disgusted by the bad quality and all the unknown and unnameable (is there such a word) ingredients in the pie.  I’ll have eating regret.

So I walked past 3 places that sells pies and I did not buy one.  However I did promise myself that I’ll go home tonight and make my own chicken pie with chilli and low fat yogurt instead of cream and bacon and even some potatoes and carrots.  It will still have a lot of butter in it but at least I’ll know all that all the ingredients are quality ingredients.  And I can choose to eat only a small bit of the pastry and not the whole pastry.

Here is my salute to home cooking and my good eating angel!

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3 Responses to Calling my name….

  1. JessieR says:

    Jiggy dance!!!!!!!!!!Hugs gf. Pies do smell awfully tempting sometimes. But more often than not they are just a nice smell wrapped in heartburn. Wha ha ha ha

  2. SuritaBotha says:

    Good one Puff – heartburn wrapped in a good smell! I’m going to remember that.Hee heee hee

  3. LinFlin says:

    Ek kry nou eers kans om al jou blogs te lees, gaan so besig met die skool wat begin het en ek wat alles juggle met half dag werk en laaste skryfbehoeftes koop, atletiek, maatjies, etc. Ek was ook ‘n good girl die week gewees….slaai ens. Maar oi, dit verg inspanning!

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