Don’t Go Chasing Calories

It’s the trap you’ll never see coming

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Inside my freezer sits a place of honour held for Janes Pub Style Chicken Strips, rarely absent. Canadians will be familiar with the brand: a frozen food staple occupying our shelves, specializing in chicken and fish.

Let me extoll you of their graces for a moment and perhaps you too may become a convert. All you need to do is dump three strips onto a plate, nuke them for two minutes, let them sit for another two, and violà: your mouth will soon be the proud owner of three pieces of protein cradled in slightly soggy breading. Pair them with a dollop of chipotle mayo and bam: a five-minute edible meal.

If all you need are calories, it’s an amazing thing.

I’ve had a complicated relationship with food since childhood.

I ballooned from an early age, consistently the largest (or silver or bronze medalist) child in class by eleven. No matter where I went, embarrassment flowered behind my pudge.

Eating was one of my prime pastimes, approached with bounding youth. My parents did their best to instill a simple lesson: tummy full, fork down. I proved a poor learner, my stomach’s wiring crossed and tangled. Only once the sack inside stretched too far did it dare shoot up the…