My Fit Foods: Losing Weight by Buying Food You Don't Want to Eat
My Fit Foods is what would happen if Eatzi's ate Jenny Craig. It's a wall of refrigerators filled with premade, preportioned, ready-to-wave, better-for-you-than-horking-down-a-stuffed-crust-pizza meals. The goal of My Fit Foods is to help us buncha lazy tubtowns learn how to not eat triple cheeseburgers with bacon every damned day. You don't have to have a membership, you don't have to agree to buy a bazillion meals -- you just walk in, get your food and go find yourself a dirty microwave to self-hatingly shove it into.
The typical Cheap Bastard response when confronted by purveyors of healthy food.
They have locations in Dallas, Houston, San Antonio and Austin. So, they're in three of the fattest cities in America as ranked by Men's Health, plus one skinny-bitch-who-tells-everyone-else-that-if-they-just-rode-a-bike-and-listened-to-better-music-they'd-be-undisgusting city. Yeah, I said it: Fuck you for being so healthy, tan and likable, Austin. Asshead.
My Fit Foods is the first restaurant you've ever been to that doesn't smell like food. At all. Zero wafting. Even Wendy's has a smell, and they don't sell food.
I went with the small chicken tikka masala entrée (chicken breast, roasted veggies and a "spiced tomato curry sauce") for $7.25. The larger the portion you order, the more you pay. Dickfaces. Their large is more than 10 bucks, and they're out of medium, so I have to get the small. (Smiling and completely nice) "Is that it?" No. Also, I'd like this punch in your ball sack for handing me this reasonable portion of food.
It's a shameful thing, waiting beside a microwave while your lunch reheats. But at least this food didn't give off that Lean Cuisine diarrhea smell.
One bite in, it was fine. It wasn't tikka masala-y (Where's my creamy sauce? Why do I only taste cayenne?), but it was fine. They should have named it, "chicken, veggies and some over-cayenned, watery tomato sauce that all tastes so not-great that it must be good for you." But, hell. The meal program they're selling promises to help you lose weight. It doesn't promise you'll want to actually eat their food. I threw away half of my small portion. Aaaaand now I see how the program works.
Next time, I'm gonna save the 10 bucks and just microwave a sock and not eat it.
My Fit Foods
4015 Lemmon Ave.
Yoga pants count: 15
Flexing biceps count: 50.5