The Temptation of the Little America Buffet

I have long loved a good buffet. I am well aware that this is not the most classy statement to post on a blog. But nonetheless, the sentence is true.

I come from a long line of buffet lovers. My grandmother on my mother's side was the first one I knew to truly embrace the convenience, variety and excitement of a buffet. She hosted a number of Thanksgivings at the Chuck-A-Rama when I was younger. (Talk about a dream come true for my brother Josh who only liked Jello, pizza and goldfish until he was 19.)

The tradition has continued as I've gotten older, and we now hit-up a buffet in Vegas or some national park for the Thanksgiving holiday. (From Bryce Canyon to Mount Rushmore to Roswell, New Mexico I can tell you a buffet open on Thanksgiving.)

As much as I love buffets, they can also be a nightmare for those limiting anything. You've got tables brimming with food and then there is often a lovely display of desserts. It's this particular section where I can get in trouble.

I've steer cleared of buffets these past weeks, but every summer for work I coordinate a lunch buffet at the Little America. I typically look forward to this day for two reasons. One, I love their rolls. Two, I love trying a bite of everything on the dessert table. On this day every year, I actually eat very little "real" food as some people might call it.

Well, the luncheon was this month. Upon arriving at the Little America, I headed for the dessert section. I cautiously reviewed which one to eat. I picked a new dessert concoction that looked to be filled with chocolate and peanut butter. It was awesome.

But I also just very badly wanted to know how they all tasted. So... this is where my great co-worker and friend Eric saved the day.

Eric seems to love sugar as much as I do. He's also aware of this little challenge I have going. As he approached the table, he knew I was having a hard time. I asked him to please eat a certain elongated oval pastry with yellow cream and raspberries and tell me what it tasted like. The year before they had a similar looking pastry with green cream. It turned out to be key lime and sublime. I was so frightened that this yellow one would be lemon flavored and equally as good. He took a bite and then made a face that represented mediocre. I felt great.

He then proceeded to take a bite of almost every dessert on the table and told me what it tasted like. He loved the fruit tarts, which was fine with me because I knew what those tasted like. He also liked the eclairs and other fairly common desserts. Once again, I didn't feel bad about these because I knew what they tasted like. It was the four or five new ones that worried me.

I'd point to them and he'd try them. Surprisingly the new ones he didn't like very much. I felt wonderful. Now, Eric and I might have a difference in taste, and chances are that I'd like the new desserts way more than a standard eclair (which I feel are sub par). But just knowing I wasn't missing out on something divine made me feel substantially better.

I started thinking about this little episode and I realized there was a couple life lessons to be learned:
1) Good friends are those who are willing to try all the desserts on the table when you can't.
2) When faced with a variety of options, you don't need to try them all to know what you want. Chances are you won't be able to try all the options. But sometimes the best thing to do is to acknowledge that you're having a hard time making a decision and more often than not, you'll find a friend(s) who's willing to help you out. This is usually even more helpful and a whole lot less calories than eating them all yourself.