Burger King's Italian Chicken Sandwich, and My Last Summer of Happiness
Burger King has re-introduced their italian chicken sandwich. The last time I had one was in the mid 1980's when I was around 13 or 14, and lived off of them for 1 summer when our family was building a house and we ate fast food nearly every night because we worked until it was dark out. I thought this was the best food in the world, this Italian chicken sandwich. As I seem to remember there were 3 or for "International" chicken sandwiches at Burger King that year. Forget the rest- I was with Italy all the way. Every chance I had to choose what we ate, I went with Long John Silvers or even better, the BK Italian Chicken. Hot and crispy and cheesy, I could think of nothing better that summer.
It was the last summer I didn't care what I looked like, even though I was a little overweight.
Yes I still got comments from my family about how fat I was. I got called names by my family, especially my dad. But most of the time I blew them off and thought, "What is THEIR problem?" For some reason, I didn't take it on myself yet.
Then in the fall, a skinny aunt (122 pounds, why do I know that?) joined the family, who had thin thighs and blonde hair, and she belonged to a gym. Which my mom promptly joined, and took my sister and I to. And I wanted those thighs.
And down the rabbit hole I went.
I had not yet sunk into an eating disorder all the way. I still ate. Often and well. I enjoyed food.
Over the years Burger King has teased me with the promise of "new sandwiches" coming out and I eagerly awaited the re-appearance of my beloved Italian Chicken, to no avail.
Until last week. There it was, on tv.
In enough recovery now from the eating disorder, at least on Caroline's side, we can go into a fast food restaurant on occasion and get a sandwich (no fries, and just a diet soda, but at least we're IN there-- big steps.) I made my husband promise to take us to BK this weekend.
And Hallelujah, there IT was. The sandwich.
And omg, it tasted just the same. Heavenly.
For once, we ate slowly, instead of rushing through our food to get it over with.
And it was so hard to hold back the tears.
It tasted just the same.
I closed my eyes and remembered that summer. The long, long hours of helping build a house. Goofing off with my sister, who, god bless her heart, was only about 9 years old, long blonde braids, tall and thin, who I adored and yet couldn't keep my ridiculous teenage sarcastic mouth from making stupid comments at her all the time. I remember the humid air, the thunderstorms, sitting on the cement slab eating my Italian chicken sandwiches.
I remember feeling COMFORTABLE with myself and my body. My every thought was NOT about the feeling of my clothes against my waist, are my arms fat. When I did think those things, I moved on after about a minute and went on with my day. It was not my obsession. I had more to do than concentrate on my body.
That was the last year.
The last time.
By the following summer, I was obsessed with getting thinner, getting up early in the morning at sunrise to go swimming in the pool before anyone was awake, to not only find some peacefulness in my now-tortured mind but also to lose some weight. Playing basketball all morning and having to make 100 free throws in a row before I allowed myself to go inside and have breakfast. Going to a new school and realizing I was not going to make any friends because they were thin and popular, and I'd never be popular if I stayed this fat.
I don't know how to get back to that summer. Now I'm resentful if someone wants me to drink an extra cup of juice or a supplement or eat a snack. How did I get from loving food so much to where I am now?
(Of course, I could be talked into going to have another Italian Sandwich tomorrow and probably every day while they're being offered...til April).
Posted by pilgrim | Filed under:
I wish you could hear my tone of voice and know I'm not being judgmental here...
It is a lovely, bitter-sweet thing to rediscover a childhood pleasure and I'm not diminishing today's post which captures that.
I think you also have the strength and compassion to be an adult now, though, and ask the inner children what was going on when the emergency services needed to be called.
I would hate to think of you as one of those Moms who just pushes food at their kids when they are upset because I know you're a sensitive and caring soul, and probably you are doing the hard work privately my dear.
what a wonderful memory. for the first time i sense true happiness in your voice. a longing for a time in your life that was good and positive. food is meant to be healthful, but it can also be social in a very positive way. in the right environment, parents sit down with their children over meals and take advantage of this time to learn about the day, to listen.
it sounds like you had that that summer.
i'm glad that you found something that can take you back to that positive time. every step helps.
if you do choose to have a BK Italan Chicken sandwich every day between now and next April, i hope that EVERY DAY you are projected to that summer. that over the course of a few months you learn to remember that food is not bad. that it can also have value beyond the nutrients it provides.
thanks for sharing the story.
I wish I was nine again. :-) That sandwich still tastes good, but not as good as before I knew what Points were and how many it has.
The other sandwiches were the "American" (lettuce, cheese, tomato, bacon, chicken) and the "French" (swiss cheese, ham, chicken).
Memory like a steel trap, eh? :-) The Italian is the best though. I remember I tried the Italian and the French equally.
I wish we could have that summer one more time too.
Love,
Your Sis
Someone else is clearly in control today than was yesterday when your therapist called 911.
Very important for you still to have enough compassion for yourself to deal with that - these things are best not swept under the carpet - that is abusive of your inner little ones- see my other post on this.
Love
Anna