Pizzeria Bebu: The Maestro’s Take

The Doc has filled you in on the nitty gritty regarding Pizzeria Bebu. My pizza was very good. The Doc isn’t as much of a fan of the really burnt crust, but I am. I’ve had a lot of pizza lately (see below), and this was one of the more satisfying experiences. I try to always get pepperoni 1) because I’m not very adventurous 2) I want to have a control in this experiment that we call the pizza blog. This was pretty much the perfect pizza. In my general love/lust relationship with pizza, I keep forgetting that there is a vast difference between American and Italian pizza, and New York and Chicago, etc. etc. I love all of it. I am an equal opportunity pizza lover. Having said that, Bebu is more on the Italian side of things. Very thin crust, not a ton of thick cheese, and some basil leaves thrown on there for good measure.

I think the basil leaves are key. In addition to being a necessary ingredient in your classic Margherita/tricolore pizza (it’s the “green” part of the green [basil], white [mozzarella], and red [sauce] representation of the Italian flag), it adds just enough bitterness to offset the sweetness of the sauce, the saltiness of the crust, and the deliciousness of the mozzarella and pepperoni. I might want to lay off the pepperoni, since when I was reading the Doc’s version of the blog, the following advertisement greeted me at the end:

pizza blog

what are you trying to tell us, pizza blog?

 

So yes, run, or clutch your chest and stagger, over to Pizzeria Bebu. For now they’re relatively unknown and the lunch crowd was practically non-existent. But if word gets out, it’s gonna be impossible to find a seat there soon.

But I’m not here to talk about pizza. I’m here to talk about go-karting (and I will in the next entry), AND I am here to tell you that I am a convert to the concept of Intermittent Fasting. Let me explain.

I’ve been going to Italy every summer for the past three years. Every time I’m in the motherland I eat way more than I should. Granted, the food that I’m eating is probably of a higher quality than the average food I’m going to get in the States, but I am putting a lot of carbs into my body.

Last summer when I came back I was TWENTY POUNDS heavier than my target weight. That isn’t to say I gained twenty pounds in 10 days in Italy. I was probably already ten pounds over it when I got there, and then ate my way to twenty pounds. When I came back I could not fit into most of my pants. So I went on a radical version of a low carb diet for 30 days. No sugar (not even fruit!), no grains, no dairy, no pasta, no pizza, no anything. Pretty much the same thing every day for 30 days:

Breakfast: 3 eggs, with a little salt.

Lunch: Chicken with lettuce, spinach, and if I were feeling really naughty, cherry tomatoes.

Dinner: Salmon with either string beans or broccoli.

Snack: unsalted almonds.

This was for THIRTY DAYS. I broke it once to have dinner with my dad and great uncle (I took a bite of tiramisu and almost completely fell off the wagon), but other than that kept to it like a madman. At the end of thirty days I had shed all the excess weight, and fit into my clothes quite nicely.

For the past year I’ve (more or less) kept a version of this diet (adding fruit and dairy) for 6 days a week. On the 7th I eat like a pig. I’ve gone a little up and a little down and had more than my fair share of distress, but the weight has more or less stayed on.

About 2 weeks before I left for Italy this summer, the Doc introduced me to the concept of Intermittent Fasting. The short version of it is you only eat from 9:00 a.m. – 5:00 p.m. Period. After that you can drink water. That’s it. Maybe black tea? I don’t know. The point is you get hungry after 5:00 p.m.? Too bad. You have to wait til morning. You wake up at 7:00 a.m. starving? too bad, you gotta wait until 9:00 a.m. At first glance this seems like a nightmare, but once you make the decision, and see results, it becomes easier and easier to not eat after 5. This weekend I was at a dinner and managed to shove everything in under 5:00. Then came the desserts. I’m talking cookies, cake, brownies, everything I love. I looked at my watch, noticed it was after 5:00, and something in my brain switched and it was as if the food ceased to exist. As the Doc said “it’s easier because the decision is made for you.”

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. I did this Intermittent Fasting (or as the kids call it, “IF”), for about 2 weeks before going to Italy, in conjunction with my normal 6 days normal 7th day pig “diet.”

But when I got to Italy, the “diet” part of my equation went out a window, into a piazza, down a narrow calle, and into the grand canal. I WAS IN ITALY.

I ate everything. Pizza. almost every day. Pasta. many times. Gelato, at LEAST once a day. Pastries, croissants, desserts, etc. EVERY. DAMN. DAY.

BUT, and this is the important part, I kept it from 9:00 – 5:00 (Italian time). Now granted I was also walking (and sometimes biking) several miles a day. Way more than when I’m at home. But I was also spending a lot of time doing U’ cazz; reading, sleeping, watching terrible Italian sex comedies on Netflix (turns out Netflix in Italy has a WHOLE DIFFERENT SELECTION OF TERRIBLE MOVIES! who knew?). My pants sometimes felt tighter, sometimes looser. I had no idea what was going on.

Needless to say, I was terrified that I had undone everything from the past year. But when I got home after two weeks, and weighed myself I was within ONE POUND of my target weight.

ONE POUND!!!!!!

Now I’m back on the IF train, and also on my insane “diet.” I’m actually under the target weight. However I made the mistake of reading one of those “5 things that people who live longer do” articles. One of them was something like “Keep within a healthy BMI” or something. And, of course, according to BMI I am overweight.

Well, crap.

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