Slim to None by Jenny Gardiner Page B

already got one boss in my life telling me I’m too fat. Are you joining in the Greek chorus of my detractors? I thought I could count on you , William. I never thought you’d be like my mother and choose to drag me down!"
    I no sooner say that than know I’ve gone too far. Accusing William of being like my mother is like saying that Santa Claus steals toys from boys and girls. We both know that William is the least controlling, least critical spouse imaginable. He’s perfectly happy with me as long as I’m perfectly happy with me. Which I am. Well, which I thought I was. Until I was called out on it. And it was pointed out by none other than my boss that I’m too fat to succeed in my job. I know I’m shooting the messenger here, but somehow I can’t seem to help myself.
    "Look, Abbie. I’ll pretend you didn’t just say that. Because we both know nothing could be further from the truth. I love you just the way you are, baby. I’m just trying to keep you on task. You say you want to keep your job?"
    I shake my head yes.
    "What, pray tell, do you have to do in order to keep your job?"
    I mumble under my breath.
    "I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you."
    I mumble again.
    "A little louder please."
    "Okay fine," I holler. "Lose weight. And lots of it. Are you happy, William?" I start to cry.
    "No, in fact, I’m not happy, Abbie. Not at all. First and foremost, I’m happy when you’re happy. So if you’re not happy, then neither am I. And aside from that, well, you know how I’d vote on this whole thing, anyhow. Yet you’re not interested in that. So instead I’m going to try to protect what is in your best interest. You want to be Gotham’s high-powered food critic? It comes with a quid pro quo."
    "Fine! You want me to not eat? I’ll not eat. I’ll not eat so much that you won’t be able to find me when I turn sideways. Is that good enough for you?" Perhaps I’m overreacting, but hunger does this to me. I’m beginning to realize why I fail at diets. They make me really surly. Poor William. And here he probably thinks it’s hormones talking. If only.
    "Look, I just need to clear my head. I’ll be back later."
    With that I gather my plate and wine glass and begin to bus dishes into the kitchen. I continue this in silence till all the dishes are cleared. I pull out my disposable plastic storage containers and package up the entrée and the salad, throw in a couple of plastic plates and some utensils, then put them in an environmentally-friendly Whole Foods shopping bag. I whistle for Cognac, grab his leash, and we head out the door, leftovers in tow.

Chicken and Crab with Cheese in Phyllo
    1/2 lb. grated cheese (equal parts gruyere, mozzarella and fontina)
    2-3 boneless chicken breasts, cubed
    1/4 lb. lump crabmeat, picked thoroughly to remove extra shells
    Stir fry chicken on high in 2 tbl. peanut oil. Drain chicken well. Using liquid from stir frying chicken, mix with 2 chicken bouillon cubes (I prefer Oxo), 3/4 c. water, and 3/4 c. half and half. Bring to boil and thicken slightly.
    Blend chicken and crabmeat together.
    prepare phyllo
    Butter 3 sheets, one on top of the other (keeping the remaining phyllo covered with a damp towel so that it does not dry out), then fold in half.
    Place layer of cheese in center of phyllo sheet. Add chicken and crab mixture. Drizzle 1 tbl. chicken broth sauce over it, and fold at 90-degree angles into triangle.
    Bake in 400 degree oven for about 20 minutes. Serve with remaining sauce.
    Serves 4

What is food to one, is to others bitter poison.
    Lucretius

Mix Two Parts Despair, One Part Rage, Serve with a Splash of Regret
    George is bent over a book, deeply engrossed, when I find him. It appears to be a library book, with the crinkly cellophane cover over the top of the thick tome.
    "Anything interesting?" I ask him, disturbing his solitude.
    He startles, looks up at me, and claps his hands with glee.
    "I haven’t seen you in days!" he says. "My stomach’s been rumbling."