No summer is complete without some trip to an amusement park, a water park, or a Disney theme park. But no glittery themed amusement is more technologically advanced in terms of separating you from your buck and commonsense than a newfangled olde-fashioned Renaissance Fair. And when it comes to healthy eating, you’re screwed.
I spent 4+ hours at the Bristol Renaissance fair this Labor Day weekend, and did my best to mediate the dining damage. But what’s a boy to do, surrounded by giant fried turkey legs, butter-dipped artichokes, Spanish fries, and olde-English slushies? They wouldn’t let me bring my gluten-free snacks past the gate. Once I was in, something about the environment made me want to eat like a sheepherder from the 16th Century. Of course, sheepherders could eat whatever the Hell they want – they walked 20 miles a day and burned off that turkey leg chasing little lambs over hills and dales. And died at 43 from some plague or tooth rot or something.
I made it about 100 feet into the Fair before I had to have a beer; then I was super-hungry from the 60 minute wait in the car to get from the exit to the parking lot, so we had to get some jerky. Then it was all downhill. Each mediocre choice opened the door for something worse – and everybody around me was eating delicious fried things and offering them to me. No wonder the ladies dress in tight corsets and the lords had blousy shirts with slimming vests! How do those workers last all summer without having heart attacks?
So here’s what I ate & drank:
1 beer
Chicken blobs on a stick with a dash of red peppers
½ a bratwurst sandwich, minus the delicious sauerkraut because I was sharing with my boyfriend
2 fried cheese balls
1 big piece of toffee while shopping in the traditional Renaissance gaming store
½ a big chocolate muffin
1 cup of coffee (that muffin was putting me to sleep.)
Massive sheet of beef jerky
It could have been worse – but it could have been a lot better: I could have kept from snacking off of everybody else’s snacks. I could have packed more food for the ride to the Fair, so that I wasn’t famished and vulnerable. (The salesclerk ladies hawking fried sweet things put their tip money in their cleavage – JUST LIKE FOOD VENDORS IN LONDON CIRCA 1530 MUST HAVE! YES I’LL HAVE THE CHEESEBALLS PLEASE!)
I just chalk it up to one big Cheat day.
