Cholesterol Blues

by

Margaret Ullrich

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My cholesterol's high so I'm on a restricted diet. It's made me popular. It's not for my wit or insights. Nope. Everyone knows that while others are having the quiche, fettuccine alla Alfredo or beef Wellington, I'm having a salad. Inviting me is like inviting Bugs Bunny. Water and carrots are fine, thank you.

The Heart Association says contact your restaurant ahead and ask if they would:

• Prepare a dish using vegetable oil or margarine rather than butter

• Leave all butter, gravy or sauce off an entrée

• Broil, bake, steam or poach rather than sauté meat, fish or poultry.

I tried. Twice. I never got the chef. I got a kid who drank palm oil with his poutine. He didn't care if the entrée was fried in axle grease. And he wouldn't bother the chef who'd had a hard day, and, like, you know, said he'd quit if he's bothered, like, you know. Yeah!

Then, instead of a restaurant, I got a gas station. Or so they said. There must be a list, like for stolen credit cards, with call display. It's easy to avoid playing 20 Questions with me. I won't use pay phones, like Tony Soprano did. I'm Maltese. We look like Sicilians. It could seem...suspicious...if I went from one phone to another. Especially if a restaurant burned down. Sometimes the ingredients are a nation's pride. Ghee has been used in India for thousands of years. Just try asking them to baste the tandoori chicken with sunflower oil!

When the doctor prescribed a statin, I was told to avoid alcohol. At an office party I was given two drink tickets. When word spread I couldn't drink, I was surrounded by men. I'll bet Cosmo never suggested statins as date bait. You'd be surprised at what a guy will do for a drink.