Every New Year, something special happens at the table. Not just wishes, but we all believe something that’s not true. We think we control what we eat. That we stick to some boring idea of moderation.
The average Cypriot sits at the festive table feeling confident. They think they have a plan (or that they don’t need one). What will we do? We’ll eat, not play Gladiator. But deep down, we’ve decided to eat ‘sensibly’. We’ll be careful. We know what we’re doing. Sure, it’s just one night, but we won’t go overboard. After all, others are watching us, all dressed up. What would they think if we dive in like Wimpy from Popeye?
So, with that in mind, the next day we confidently say: ‘Okay: I didn’t eat that much, I mostly nibbled.’
IN THEORY, the festive feast:
In our minds, the count is clear. What did we eat? A bit of this, a spoonful of that, some turkey, a forkful of salad, two rolls, three or four canapés, a few nuts and a handful of chips before the meal, two beers, a whiskey, a piece of vasilopita, some tart—that’s it. I don’t count the soda; it’s calorie-free.
How much could that be? Maybe 1,500 – 2,000 calories? Perhaps we hit 2,200.
The same phrases come up every year from people holding a melomakarono in one hand and a kourabie in the other, just to warm up. It’s a big lie you tell yourself: that calories care about your feelings and recognize good intentions. If you didn’t really want it, they don’t count.
IN PRACTICE, the festive feast:
In reality, food doesn’t care about your healthy habits. It adds up whatever you eat. And a full New Year’s table—from the first ‘nibbles’ to the last drink—easily hits or exceeds 3,500 to 4,500 calories.
Before we even get to the main course, we’ve already had:
- appetizers and snacks that we ‘just try’ to ‘warm up’
- salads with mayonnaise, bacon bits, figs, parmesan and other hidden traps posing as healthy options
- cheeses, cold cuts, dried fruits, nuts and other ‘harmless’ snacks so the drinks don’t hit us hard.
Then comes the main course—it’s not just food but a simulation of a death row inmate’s last meal. And let’s not forget alcohol—those sneaky calories that come in quietly like guests at VIP events. We think they don’t fill us up and somehow convince us there’s always room for more.
When we say “a little more” in Cyprus, we mean everything on the festive table. The idea is: ‘Make enough so there’s plenty; God will provide.’ Better to have leftovers than run out.
The rule of ‘nibbling’
I think the biggest trap at the New Year’s table is that there are no portions. There’s a central crater constantly overflowing with food. When you eat from the middle,YOU HAVE NO IDEA how much you’ve eaten. You forget how many pieces or how many times you’ve heard ‘try this; it’s wonderful’, or ‘the other is very good too’.
This isn’t greed my reader; it’s a social thing.
The post-festive amnesia
The most surprising part is that if we survive the cholesterol overload, within 48 hours no one remembers what they ate. But everyone thinks they ‘probably didn’t overdo it’.
And somehow New Year’s never weighs anyone down. I repeat: among those who survive.
BUT (just to be clear)
To burn off an average New Year’s meal of 4,000 calories would take running lightly for 6 to 7 hours straight. Yes. Something no one will do except my neighbor who loves exercising more than anything else. But I’ve watched her closely; she probably doesn’t eat like everyone else. At most she’ll have a little turkey breast for protein and toast others’ champagne glasses with vitamin water.
The rest of us will add the New Year’s (and Christmas) feast to our new year goals (meaning dieting to get back to our ‘correct’ weight) and thank our lucky stars—or whatever each person does—for surviving yet another festive meal.
Papa-Ratsis
