I don’t know who I am anymore. It is impossible to make me happy.

I am torn. I want to be healthy. I really do. But my heart? It still wants sugar.

We drove to Louisville today. And, ever since watching the Throwdown with Bobby Flay, I’ve been thinking about Lynn’s Paradise Cafe.

The menu looked amazing. Everything that we saw carried by us looked good. They use local ingredients whenever possible, so I was so excited. I thought about a salad. I thought about a BLT. I thought about a BLT salad. But, in the end, I turned off my brain. I saw this.

Bourbon Ball French Toast. Really? Really.

My thinking? When will I ever be here again? It looked awesome on the Food Network. It looked awesome at the table we walked by. I love the French toast at Cracker Barrel. I like everything on it. It’s been a REALLY long time since I’ve eaten something that was quality and decadent. I was content with my order.

Let me just mention that while we were waiting on our food, I reviewed the book I’m reading for Kent. Talked about how food companies manipulate us to order amounts and quality of food that are not good for us. And then we debated over if the strategy was manipulation or brilliant business tactics.

Did I forget that I had ordered something ridiculous? I do not know why I wasn’t feeling like a hypocrite at that point.

And then this came:

And I don’t know if I am more proud or frustrated with my reaction.

I was disgusted. Before I’d even taken a bite.  What the hell was I thinking? I didn’t want this. I don’t even know how many slices of French toast were covered in what tasted like creme from the middle of a doughnut, topped with chocolate, nuts and whipped cream.

How in the hell did I think that this was going to be my lunch?

I ate some of it. I tried to sneak as many bites of Nate’s BLT and Kent’s Hoppin’ Juan as I could.

A bite of the French toast was fantastic. Heaven on a fork, as Kent said. But 2 bites? No thank you. This is supposed to be a meal? What is wrong with me?

I don’t think I’ll ever want sugar again.

And, for the record? I was eating with 2 men who love to eat. I’ve seen them put away drinks, appetizers, entrees, and dessert. We shared one drink between the three of us. No appetizers or dessert. And, after I was done and the bottom-less pit men picked at it, almost half of my entree was still sitting there.

It was even too much for the foodie men in my life.

What the hell was I thinking?