It’s been a while since we’ve reviewed What I’ve Had In My Mouth Lately, Reader. But before we get into all of that, let me just go on the record of stating that Weight Watchers Points are MEAN. And quite frankly, RUDE.
I was a Weight Watcher many-a-year ago, so I thought I was savvy to how the points system worked, and could give a pretty good approximation to how many points were in a food. So I was really excited – and surprised – with my rejoining efforts when I discovered I get about 10-12 more points than I used to years ago. And that now all fruits and veggies are are a free-for-all. I mean, I can just eat an ENTIRE BANANA without guilt. That was the deciding factor for my rejoining, Reader. It used to just frost my cake that I had to count a regular sized banana as 2 servings, and it consumed two points of my very-limited 18 for the day. Who eats 1/2 of a banana? No one, that’s who. Because then the cut area gets all browned up and gross. So you just eat the entire banana, and it’s a serving. Weight Watchers finally got hip to how bananas work, so I thought we could be friends again.
We had our first full week together and I made a very conscientious effort to track all my foods. But sometimes I would just eat the food, assuming it had a reasonable amount of points, and when I’d go to update my plan with what I’d eaten I would be in for a very unfortunate surprise. Let me give you a for instance, Reader, so you can understand my points-annoyance.
One day this past week while at work I was quite busy, had only brought some fruit with me to work, and decided late in the day – around 2 or so – that I wouldn’t go out and get a lunch, I’d just eat a packet of oatmeal I had in my desk drawer. It was a Quaker Oats high protein variety, with about 150ish calories. In my mind, I figured that was about 3 points.
Nay nay, Reader. How wrong I was to assume. After I ate my oatmeal lunch and went to dutifully log my points, a bit smug with myself for only having consumed non-points fruit and then a very heart-healthy oatmeal lunch, the points rang to a very rude number. SIX. SIX POINTS, Reader. For a packet of oatmeal. I could have eaten an English muffin, a scrambled egg and still had a point left over, which would have been way more fulfilling. So basically they gave you more points, so you think you’re getting to eat more, but they just charge you more for each food item. Tricky Dicks, that’s what they are.
I also discovered that a spaghetti marinara sauce I thought would be practically free, re: mostly tomatoes!, had 5 points per serving! In fact, a four-cheese sauce I had in my cupboard from the Classico brand only had 3 points. Now how can that even be, Reader? It’s illogical. But I opted of course for the four-cheese variety, and scooped out my 1/4 cup and was quite satisfied with it. However, I almost got screwed again.
Lastly, I realize I drink an awful lot. I mean, I didn’t even think I drank that much at all, until I started having to assign points to it all. And let me tell you, I don’t think it’s fair, but we’ve already had that one-sided discussion.
So this week, I’ve brushed off the annoyance from last weeks surprises, and am planning ahead. Stocking up on lots of fruits and veggies to pack with me. Which brings us to the What I’ve Had in My Mouth Lately recap. Since fruits are “free,” I’ve been experimenting with what I will put between my lips.
They were offering these up at Heiny (Heinen’s to you layfolk) on Friday. Someone from the produce department was slicing one open for a shopper and I happened to be walking by and they offered me a taste. I must have a look about me that says, “Hell ya, I’ll put that right in my mouth!”
After a mild hesitation, I decided what the hell, I’m game. I mean, I’d like to say I’ve put worse-looking in my mouth, but I think this might just actually qualify as the scariest thing that has ever passed between my lips.
Lest you think I ate this porcupine-looking thing as-is, it actually peels.
It didn’t get much better in the looks department.
It was sort of like the hairy ball peeled back to reveal the translucent testicle, which was soft and fleshy feeling.
Yes, I ate it. We’d come that far in our relationship in the middle of the grocery store. I wasn’t about to back down.
I was told it was a Lychee, but it doesn’t look the photos I’ve Googled of Lychees, so I’m unsure. Reader, any idea? Can you confirm or deny that it’s a Lychee, or did I really peel and eat a porcupine testicle?
Oh, p.s., they were $9.99/lb. So not cheap, but I purchased three to bring home. In the name of research, Reader, so you could experience it with me here, and also because it was a zero point food, unless it is in fact a porcupine testicle, and then I’m not sure how many points Weight Watchers would assign, but my guess would be 114 points because their system doesn’t make any sense.
So I either had a diet food or a fleshy-feeling points-hogger.
Regardless, the taste was mild, and nothing I’d ever clamor for again, unless I was stranded on a deserted island like in Castaway, and found this lying around, and then I’d dig right in. Which sort of begs the question – how hungry was the first person who ever decided to give this a go? And did they try eating the whole thing at once, or did they break it open just to check out the inside first?
It has a seed in the middle of the fleshy part, so if you happen to find yourself stranded with nothing to eat but these hairy balls, be warned and don’t try to send me your dentist bill for chomping down on it and getting a surprise in the middle. You know there’s always a surprise in the middle, Reader. Don’t fall for it if they tell ya there’s not. And now you’ve been educated – and warned – about your possible future fruit or porcupine ball eating endeavors.
You’re welcome.
