Last weekend, I spent a whirlwind, romantic few days with my man Gluttony, taking on the wilds of the wine country. Our eyes met over that first wine sip of the weekend, and I knew I was a gonner. From there, he led me down an endless path of confectionary items, cheeses, pastas and, of course, wine (think Templeton at the aftermath of the state fair...but with WINE). It was like he could see past my gums and into my soul. Gluttony, you managed to find your way into my heart, er, stomach, first by wafting the faint aroma of truffle just past by nose, knowing full well I was powerless to resist, and then by catching my eye with a chocolate truffle (that's right, TWO different truffle references in ONE sentence) - just one, you said, but then you kept them coming. I don't even crave chocolate, but it was there. LAY OFF ME I'M STARVING.
So Gluttony and I started out the weekend with a simple "tasting" (i.e., three fairly full glasses of wine), followed by three additional tastings, before finally making it to dinner, where he and I indulged in a decadent meal of quiche, tortes and moscow mules. It was a glutton's paradise. We just glut-glut-glut-ed all night long. Seriously - Lionel Richie style. Mr. G left me very satisfied.
The next day, did we feel regret? Oh no. The usual food hangover hadn't kicked in yet, so to ward it off, G and I hit a coffee shop, where we indulged in one of my very favorite items - an egg croissant. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Gluttony and I made eyes at each other over the few remaining crumbs, which he of course let me have, before returning to lounge by the pool and soak in sun to our heart's content. It was at that moment - there as I basked in the sun and felt Ol' G-Money cuddle my stomach in a warm embrace - that I knew he really loved me. Suddenly, it wasn't gravity keeping me on Earth; it was Gluttony, and all the food and wine he talked me into consuming. Literally. I mean I was FULL.
The next day (Note: we were too exhausted from glut-glut-gluttoning to do anything later that night), 'Tony and I hit some more wineries, where we "tasted" wines (not sure you can really call it "tasting" per se when your taste buds go numb after winery No. 2) with meat and cheese chasers (because...CHEESE). Glut and I then retired to our humble abode, so we could take a nap (it's very important to stay rested when you hang with Gluttony, you know, to keep your strength up) before dinner. That's right - I said DINNER. Oh, it was really fantastic, this long weekend with my love.
Alas, Sunday hit and it was time to head home. Our tryst had come to an end (my body was relieved), and I had to say goodbye. It was then that I told him about the steady thing I had going with my boyfriends back home, Greek Yogurt and Salad (don't tell them about each other - that could get ugly). I swore to return some day, and just like that, he was gone.
Gluttony, I'll never forget you. But back to reality...and the gym.