1/29/2019
Twenty bucks

Niko, do you really have to write? Do you really have something to say, like, something really worth saying?

Well, not really. I mean, I'm very sure someone has said what I'm going to say next.

Again, Niko, do you really have to write?


So, today, for lunch, I decided to eat at Sbarro. I made that decision solely based on the fact that they offer salads, and I felt like eating a salad. It sounded like a good idea: half a baked ziti with a meatball, and a salad. I can claim I'm not loading up on way too much carbohydrates. I mean, Sbarro is good, but you do have a feeling you're just loading up on carbohydrates and it makes you feel a little more guilty.

Well, the salad - I got a grilled chicken salad - costs twenty pesos more than half a baked ziti with a meatball.

So, yes, there is this thought about why salads are more expensive than pastas. There is this thought - this one I know I have seen someone else make - about why restaurants make it more expensive for people to eat healthily than to eat trash, or, well, make you feel extra guilty about eating cream and flour. That leads to me being able to say, with confidence, that the costs of transporting vegetables - and ensuring they don't wilt along the way - are high, and that more should be done to make sure small farmers are able to keep their produce in good quality as it makes its way through retail avenues. But nobody really cares about that explanation. "Support our farmers!" is a very simple thing to say, and that's what most are happy with - just look like you care, and don't dig deeper about the underlying problems.

But, ultimately, the worst part is that I still really felt bloated after that lunch, a lunch that cost twice than I planned, all because I wanted a salad. I was finishing my meatball - they changed their recipe; I'm a bit disappointed there's less liver in it now, but I tasted just a bit more of parsley in there - and I remembered that vegetables makes you feel full faster, and I also felt like a glutton because I still had pasta and the line behind me grew exponentially in a split second. Just, you know, a group of kids taking over a quiet branch of an Italian-American restaurant chain.

Well, I was walking a kilometer again anyway.

Again, Niko, did you really have to write that? Remember when someone told you what you write here has no value? Remember that you should be closing this blog, and not the other one?

And your responses...

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