When I moved to L.A. almost two years ago, I made a bucket list of to-dos in my quest to tackle everything LA has to offer. Surfing, shopping (window) on Rodeo Drive, Muscle Beach, Catalina Island, The Getty, The Grove and the list goes on. While I’ve made a concerted effort to get to most of these places, I still have some work to do.
An L.A. landmark I recently checked off the list is Pink’s in Hollywood–home of the World’s Best Chili Dog. Status-post L.A. marathon, my friend and I decided that since we ran a marathon we could venture into the land of 1,000-calorie hot dogs. The comprehensive menu offered some tough choices: the Mulholland Drive Dog, a 10” dog with grilled onions, mushrooms, nacho cheese and bacon; and the Hollywood Walk of Fame Dog, another ten-incher topped with “yummy” coleslaw and tomatoes. After an hour and a half wait in line (and I’m told this was a short line) my will-power to keep my selection somewhat sane and my portions under wraps was wavering.
When it came our time to order, I skipped past the turkey dogs and headed straight for the Ozzy Spicy Dog, a spicy polish dog topped with nacho cheese, American cheese, grilled onions, guacamole and tomatoes; and the Martha Stewart Dog, a 10” dog adorned with relish, onions, bacon, tomatoes, sauerkraut and sour cream. We added a side of chili fries for good measure. A conservative calorie count was 1,500 per dog and another 1,000 for the fries.
The guilt began to set in as we made our way to the table with our bloated tray full of all of the greasy, cheesy, meaty dogs and fries. But I addressed the situation head-on rather than let the guilt consume me and my dogs. I admitted to myself that I was making a poor food choice. Aside from the healthy monounsaturated fats from the guacamole (and this was surely negated by all the surrounding saturated fat) there was not one healthy item on my tray.
I reminded myself that I live by the 80/20 rule-80% of my diet is clean, healthy, nutritionally-purposeful and 20% is life. Like today. So, without guilt, I bit in and enjoyed 10 inches of a greasy, cheesy, meaty dog. Tomorrow, I’ll need to run at least 10 miles to compensate for this doggone diet disaster!