Vultures and The Donut Rule

At work there's a rule.  It may be the most sacrosanct of all the rules in this organization.  It's called The Donut Rule.  "If you are more than three minutes late to staff meeting, next week you owe us donuts."  In truth, nobody in the meeting is personally inconvenienced much by another person's tardiness, so logically it would seem that reparations (if absolutely necessary) should be paid to the company rather than the meeting attendees.  But logic has no bearing where donuts are involved.  At three minutes and one second after meeting's start time the (we) vultures lick their (our) lips.

Due to the close proximity of Einstein Bros. bagel shop, donuts also often come in the form of bagels.

Last week, not one but two members of the staff fell prey to the dreaded three-minute rule and this morning a large box of bagels and a tray of sumptuous pastries temptingly adorned the table.  To make matters worse, this morning I woke up and ate breakfast an hour early.  So with my digestive system functioning an hour ahead of usual, I spent the meeting eying the feast and considering whether I could afford a mid-morning snack and if so, which route I should choose.

According to the nutritional info Einstein's website, a their bagels contain between 260 and 350 calories and two tablespoons of cream cheese adds 60 to 70 calories to that.  Essentially we're talking between 320 and 420 calories that I hadn't factored into my daily intake if I go with a bagel.  And assorted pastries...I almost don't even dare consider!

Being aware that bagels are pretty hearty fare but not having the exact figures at my fingertips, I felt it appropriate to be suspicious.  So after the meeting I examined the pastry tray for something that wasn't shiny or drizzled in frosting.  And there it was: a lovely blueberry scone.  Lightly dusted with powdered sugar and much healthier looking than the tastier treats on the tray.  Mind you, it's not a "Utah scone"...the delicious deep fried dough ball named in Health Magazine's 50 Fattiest Foods In The States.  Being from Utah, that's what pops to mind when someone says scone.  No, it's the European variety.

After a quick internet search I've just learned that depending where it came from, this type of scone is probably between 160 and 460 calories, the heftiest version being Starbucks' Blueberry Scone.  Making an educated guess, I can assume that the tray came from somewhere else, but I don't feel comfortable assuming the nutritional content is any different than the Starbucks worst-case-scenario.

In hindsight, the bagel vs. scone choice may have been moot, but hoping that I'd made the best choice under the circumstances, I cut the scone in half, blew the dusty powdered sugar into the garbage can, and took my mid-morning snack back to my office.  While it's possible the scone rivaled a half bagel with cream cheese,  the simple decision to control portion size is a liberating one.  It's important to listen to our bodies.  I was hungry, but a half scone took the edge off.  I could have easily eaten the whole thing, but what for?

I've always, with some amusement, watched people cut a sliver of something where I would normally just eat the whole thing.  There's something supremely gratifying about greedily consuming the whole thing...whatever that thing is.  Whether it's a saucer-sized apple fritter or the biggest piece of pie, more is better.  And with the invention of single-serving snacks, eating the whole thing is a no-brainer.  But why?  Why is it better?  Is it because we're hungry?  Usually not.  So many of the foods that are easiest to recognize as unhealthy are the unnecessary additions to an otherwise healthy diet.  Do we need dessert?  Nope.  Definitely not for sustenance.  So when we occasionally choose to indulge in a decadent treat outside of our meals, is there any rational reason to succumb to the urge to gobble down as much of it as possible?  None whatsoever.  It's just an urge.  A habit.  Maaaaaaaybe something instinctual.  But not rational.  So if you must go to the pastry shop, buy the smallest fritter instead of the biggest.  At a fancy restaurant, share your dessert.  And after staff meeting, split the scone.