The Girl Who Ate Michigan

I love to eat.

I know this comes as no great shock. I write about food on this blog all the time, and I talk about food all the time. I just enjoy food. (I get this from my portly grandfather, who once said he hoped he would eat himself to death). I figure that I have to eat anyway, so I might as well enjoy it.

This past weekend, I flew to Michigan to see my good pal Marla, who appreciates food as much as I do. We routinely e-mail recipes to each other, and for the short time we lived and hung out in the same city, we ate together a lot. We hadn't seen each other for nearly a year, so we had a lot of eating to catch up on.

I've been very careful lately about eating healthy and not over-snacking; I've lost a few pounds and feel great. But it became apparent very early in my trip planning that my diet was in trouble, when people asked me what I'd be doing in Michigan and I listed restaurants. The man next to me on the flight to Detroit had a hearty laugh because all I talked about was food the whole way there. He asked me how I "stay so thin." I've never been particularly fat, but I've always had enough extra fluff that people don't typically describe me as "thin," so this made me feel like a million bucks.

As soon Marla picked me up at the airport, the eating fest began, and it didn't stop until she returned me to the airport on Monday morning. It was like going on a bender, except with food. This is a rundown of my weekend, in food.

After my flight landed around noon on Friday, Marla picked me up and, after a short detour to pick up her friend Sam, we went to lunch at a Middle Eastern place called La Shish. We had bread with hummus and this wonderful garlic stuff that made me glad my fiance was not around to refuse to kiss me. La Shish also makes incredible smoothies, so we had those, and I also ate a chicken shawarma sandwich, which was quite tasty, and I sampled Marla's salad and rice.

After a shopping excursion in Ann Arbor (during which we ate nothing despite allegedly being very close to a fantastic cupcake place -- how strong were we?), Marla and I dropped Sam at home and went to Ikea, where we ate cinnamon rolls. We looked at furniture too, but let's be honest. I wasn't taking any furniture home with me; I was totally there for the food.

I thought I was full, but after some time sitting around Marla's house, we both felt the tummy rumbles again and headed out to Baja Fresh, where I had never been before. I don't remember what I ate, but I sure was full.

On Saturday, we actually skipped breakfast, but it was for no noble reason. We met Marla's mom for the lunch buffet at a casino in Detroit. It was my first time in a casino, so I excitedly put a whopping six dollars on the line in hopes of winning big money. At one point, I was up to $11.50, but I got greedy and lost it, ultimately breaking even. The buffet more than made up for the disappointment, though, particularly the dessert area. I really wanted to be a glutton and take one of everything, but this was the first time I had met Marla's mom, and I didn't want her calling me "that girl who ate everything." (I learned, however, within a few minutes of talking to her, that she would probably come up with something more catchy and with more vulgar words to call me. She was so entertaining; I just want to follow her around for a day sometime and observe her). Anyway, the food was great; I really won big at the buffet.

After an afternoon of ripping the band-aid off (otherwise known as wedding dress shopping), we stopped for an Orange Julius and contemplated an Auntie Anne's pretzel before deciding to have a donut instead. We went to a cider mill and got in the donut line, when I realized I had none of my little pills that make my lactose intolerant tummy not hate me, and with no assurance that there was no milk in the donuts, I passed, leaving me hungry enough for chips and a big burrito at Chipotle. Mmm.

I would like to point out that we spent the evening at the movies and did not get any snack of any kind.

Sunday was a magical food day for me, really and truly. The first food stop was at Bruegger's Bagels, a place I used to frequent when I lived in Pittsburgh. I hadn't been there since those days, and as soon as I walked in, those days of daily bagels and cream cheese came flooding back. It smelled the same, and it tasted the same. It was a very special breakfast.

We spent the afternoon with Marla's grandma, chatting with her at her house (where there was candy) and then visiting her uncle's farm (where there were cookies). We went to Texas Roadhouse for dinner, and that was a life-changing experience. Rolls with cinnamon butter and a steak with two sides for seven bucks. Can't beat it. We also got one of those onion blossom things; by the time I got my steak, I was pretty full, but I didn't want it to feel bad, so I ate it. When we left, I thought I would explode. Luckily, I didn't, but it was a close call.

On Monday, we stopped again at Bruegger's, and I was off to the airport. I flew home, back to healthy food in smaller portions.

All in all, it was a great weekend. Not just for the food, but that certainly was a highlight. I can't wait to go back.

Because after all that talk of food, I sure am hungry.