April 28, 2014--NY, NY: Calorie Count

Saturday was beautiful and Rona said, "Let's go into Brooklyn, to Coney Island, and get a couple of dogs at Nathan's."

"And fries," I added. "I love their fries."

"For sure. We haven't been there in what feels like ten years. I'm interested to see if things have changed. Especially after Hurricane Sandy."

So we extracted our car from the garage and headed for the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel.

When we got to the toll booth on the Brooklyn side, "Rona observed, "I can tell you one thing that's changed."

"What's that?"

"The toll."

"How much is it? I think the last time we came this way is was $2.50, or something. When it first opened back in 1950, the toll, I think, was 35 cents, which was a lot of money then."

"And you had a full head of hair."

"And you weren't even born!"

"Now it's even more expensive than the Holland Tunnel," which we took recently returning from Florida, "It was $13.00 to enter the city but they don't charge for leaving."

"Is there some message in that? To get one used to Manhattan prices?"

"But for the BBT, it's $7.50 each way. Fifteen round trip. Highway robbery, literally."

"That's probably what Nathan's now charges for dogs."

"Fifteen dollars?"

"No, $7.50."

I wasn't that far off. Nathan's Famous hotdogs are now $3.95 each plus tax. But once every ten years--who cares?

Sensing correctly that I did care, Rona said, "When they opened nearly a hundred years ago dogs were a nickel."

"This is supposed to make me feel better? Does this mean if I live to a hundred they'll cost $25 each?"

"Probably. But by then . . ."  I was happy that she didn't complete the thought.

"Why don't we stop obsessing about prices and enjoy ourselves. How many do you want?"

"Two, well done, with mustard--lots of it--and sauerkraut. And you?"

"Probably one."

"And don't forget the fries. They're really my favorite here."

"If they make them the same way. Hand cut."

"Don't hold your breath. We'll be lucky if . . ."

"Stop with the grumpiness. We're here to have a good time. And forget about eating healthy. If you want to eat healthy, we can go home and get some shredded cabbage and carrots for lunch." She winked to make sure I knew she was fooling.

"I'd rather get my gas from a couple of hotdogs."

"And from a soda. What do you want to drink? A diet Coke?"

"Let's go wild. A regular Coke and how about sharing one? You know, a large one. Twelve, sixteen ounces?"

"Sounds like a plan."

On such a beautiful day the lines to place orders stretched back to the sidewalk.

When finally we were third from the counter Rona, reading the posted menu, noted, "Look at all the new things they have. Chicken fingers, chili dogs, burgers. Not just your old regular dogs and fries."

"I guess they have to keep up with the times. Progress. They even have," I noticed, "a chef's salad! So you can eat healthy even here."

"Who would come all this way, pay $15 to park, and order a chef's salad? Crazy."

"Speaking of eating healthy," I pointed to the menu, "look, since we were here last they are posting calories."

"What?"

"Next to the ridiculous prices they list calories." I pointed. "Hotdogs are 310 calories. And regular fries, 550. Ugh. But I so love those fries." I made a sad face.

"Don't worry about calories. We come here once every ten years. Live a little."

"Or die a little," I said under my breath.

"We'll have three well done dogs," Rona said to the girl at the cash register. "Both with mustard and sauerkraut. Extra mustard." She turned to me, "Relax, mustard has very few calories. And fries and . . ."

"Will that be regular or large fires?"

I glanced again at the calorie chart. "Regular are 550, large 780, and . . ."

"Large," Rona almost shouted, in the spirit of we-only-do-this-once-a-decade.

"And, a medium Coke."

"That's another 240," I muttered.

Rona glared at me. "You want to go home and munch on carrots?"

"We spent a fortune on parking so . . ."

"So, indeed. We came all this way for dogs. And fries. Try to enjoy yourself."

While waiting for our order--which totaled about $20 (or about a penny for each of our 1,950 calories) we looked around at the other customers.

"Look at the woman," I whispered. "She's huge and ordered four chili dogs at 460 calories each. Do you think all of them are for her?''

"At times you can be so ridiculous. Why don't you forget about everyone else and pay attention to your own waistline. I've noticed it's expanding recently. You could cut down on your chocolate ice cream after dinner."

"I . . ."

Thankfully, our order arrived and I was saved from embarrassing myself further.

"Let's get some Ketchup, Rona said, "For the fries."

"Lots. I love lots of Ketchup with my fries."

We half filled a small coffee cup with Ketchup. "Glad to see they still serve Heinz," I smiled. "No extra charge for that." I added, "How many calories are in the Ketchup?"

Thankfully, Rona ignored me. "There's a spot over there," she noticed. "Where in the old days we stood to eat our dogs. I'm glad Sandy didn't destroy it."

"Right. Where there used to be the clam bar. We enjoyed them too, clams, and chowder when it was cold. I wonder if they still have them on the half shell. I must admit I can't help but ask how much they cost."

"They still do have clams. Look." Rona nodded at the seafood menu. "And they also have crabmeat salad. Changes, changes," she sounded wistful.

"Now you're getting into the curmudgeony spirit. I like that."

"And while I'm at it, a dozen clams is $15 and the crab salad $18. Wow."

"But look. The clams are only 250 calories and the crab salad just 125."

"Forget that," Rona said, "We're here for the dogs. Let's dig in. I'm starving."

I devoured my first one in four bites. "The best 310 calories I ever ate," I said, with mustard running down my chin.

"Look at this so-called medium Coke," Rona was holding it with two hands. "It must be half a gallon. And it weighs like five pounds. Do you think it's legal?"

"Legal?"

"You know, isn't it illegal in New York City to serve soft drinks in cups larger than 16 ounces?"

"Mayor Bloomberg tried to do that but couldn't get it approved. Anyway, there's a new mayor now so forget about it and, to quote you, live a little."

"How many fries do you think there are?"

"What?"

"You know, in the order. For our 780 calories. I wonder how many per fry that would be. Let me see and then divide 780 by . . ."

"First you gave me grief for worrying about calories and how much everything costs and now before even finishing your first dog that we drove all the way to get, you're counting fries."

Ignoring me, intent on counting the fries, Rona said, "There must be 20, 25 of them. Which means . . . let me get out my calculator . .  . that's a little more than 31 calories per fry and  . . ."

"I can't believe you."

"And I'm lovin' every one of them! Um, um. Do you think we have to wait another ten years to . . . ?"