I’m downright amazed at what a Japanese girl can stuff down her throat…
When I first came to Japan I was faced with an interesting conundrum. Everywhere I went Japanese people were telling me how healthy and good-for-you their food was. I looked around me and nodded my head. Everyone was thin except those unmarried, sweaty, glasses-wearing, chubby guys with metabolic syndrome that spent their free time in beef bowl restaurants, udon shops and living with a mom who cooked far too much for them.
I then proceeded to gain about 12 pounds (6ish Kilos) eating ‘healthy.’
What was going on here? I was riding my bike everywhere, something I never did in America, and I swam as much as I could.
My only answer: Japanese people are genetically built eating machines.
I figured out quickly that there were just too many carbs in this country for me. People eat bowls upon bowls of rice with nearly every meal. If they’re not eating rice they’re eating some kind of noodles. If they’re not eating Asian-style noodes they’re eating spaghetti, and if not spaghetti they’re eating pizza or nan bread or something. For breakfast they knock down giant pieces of Wonder Bread-esque Texas toast.
My body just can’t handle this. Two normal-sized bowls of refined white rice in a day and my middle starts expanding.
Since then, I’ve gotten back down to normal weight buying whole grain rice, getting a bread maker and whole grains from the food shop. Now I’m back to normal, mostly through cooking for myself.
But fuck! These people can house carbs like it’s their job!
This next part I will whisper, because if said too loud, stupid people with retarded ideas are bound to swoop down and take my idea and suddenly one of our races will instantaneously be put in death camps and we’ll all be discussing eugenics again, but there might be differences involved in our genetics!
I came from a childhood where I’d go out and beg my dad to take me to the doughnut shop. When I finally twisted his arm enough, I was able to enjoy the glory of a single glazed doughnut! When I came home, my mom yelled at us both.
In general, I’ve always been from a world where we eat two doughnuts and feel pretty guilty about it. To push to three would be like moving from a Moon landing to a Mars landing. Three doughnuts? I dunno man, I don’t think I can handle it, maybe we should just get like one doughnut and a kroeller, that’s a bit bigger, right?
In Japan, to what do my wandering eyes appear but an entire army of lithe, young women just downing entire trays of bread and doughnuts like they were born to this earth to suck all the carbohydrates off it (and protein too, but that’s another blog, wink wink).
When I first saw it, I thought that they were taking all these doughnuts home to an extremely large family. That was until I watched them sit down and just go nuts on the tray. In a Starbucks they’ll hose down a bunch of danishes with a milkshake-like frappaccino.
Now I’m not gonna say that American portions aren’t gigantic and that we’re all not a bunch of fat asses, but damn, if we could eat like this for a cafe snack we’d be double our current size.
It’s completely bewildering what my possibly 100 lb gf can eat.
It’s gotta be some super genes.
Turn on Japanese TV. What do you see? Are people eating on every channel? Are they still somehow magically thin? Does it look like this:
That’s Natsuko “Gal” Sone, Japanese eating machine. According to Wired Magazine, this 95 pound, petite 5 foot 4 inch woman can down some 20 lbs of food in one sitting, polishing off whatever you put in front of her face. She’s been known to consume 40,000 calories of food in a day and apparently her cells burn off more fat and her gut contains more bifidobacteria for helping digestion.
But Beyond ‘Gal” Sone, Japanese variety TV is just full of beautiful people constantly eating. Perhaps they all burn off a bit more fat than us land-monster barbarians?
So as I swim my thousands of meters and bike around the entire city, watching what I eat every day, trying harder than I ever had to in the US to avoid a barrage of white breads, udon, and rice, I pass by cafe after cafe of women fueling Japan’s entire grains import industry.
I’m not jealous, I’m just scared.
If there’s ever a food shortage, I might find myself at the wrong end of a table of hungry Japanese women.