Baked Horror

Today a co-worker was eating a sub - a big fat one with crusty bread. In the past, I'd'a put that whole 12" thing away! To look at even 1/2 of it now is terrifying to me! Baked horror, that's what big crusty hunks of bread mean to me now. That thing would've put me in the ER. I can eat bread - thinly sliced, crusty or better yet, crunchy, with butter or oil to help it along. Oh, and one piece, not 12.

On another note, I had a fantastic meal last night at Portland's ClarkLewis restaurant - but also had the *worst* PB ever. Turns out homemade pasta - and it's gooey, glutenous, soft consistency - is not the lap-band's friend. And I only had literally a couple bites... Lesson learned - no three strikes rule for this one - it is OUT.