That is until I came to Georgia.
I might be overreacting but when I can see a significant difference in how my clothes fit after only a month of living here I have begun to be quite concerned. Now I could look at this as an opportunity to outfit myself with a chic new European wardrobe. True. And there are certain merits to that idea, but I do feel it smacks of admitting defeat before a battle has been fought. To date there have been a few skirmishes. One afternoon, as Eka, Nino and I were baking cookies (can anyone see the warning signs here?) I pointed out what my Georgian diet was doing to me. So we all trekked out to the porch to weigh in on the medical scale (who doesn't have one of them just lying about?). I had to convert the measurement from kilos to pounds (thank you Google calculate) but before I even did that Eka was shaking her head and saying that it was a bit much. Great. Thanks! It's your irresistibly delicious food that's doing it!! We all had a good laugh about it but after the first weigh in I made a firm resolve to cut back and asked Eka and Nino to help me and stop feeding me so much. Riiiight.
Well, breakfast, lunch and dinner (and the second dinner that comes at around 9 pm) still come with four or five dishes to choose from and I find myself exerting all effort to say "no" to some of the best food I've ever had in an attempt to maintain my dignity, and my skirt size. Unfortunately, my self-discipline has always been a little lacking in stalwart resolve. So the battle continues.
All of this to say, I think I intend to begin a short series on Georgian food. It is, by far, the thing I can talk about, in Georgian, with the most confidence. I guess that says something about how important food is here as it comprises half of the vocabulary that I currently know. Besides that, it's honestly too good not to share!
For now, I'm just going to try not to be tempted by a late night trip to the kitchen...