The fourth bite

I'm in California catching up with friends.  Last night my wife and I dined with them at a busy family restaurant (pizzas, burgers).  The atmosphere was buzzy and the wait staff were as friendly as the portions were huge.  So to my banal observation of the week:-

American restaurant food loses its flavour at the third mouthful

The plate looks great when set down in front of you and that first bite is amazing.  As are the next two.  You find yourself thinking that America is the greatest country on earth.  Then almost immediately your palate jades.  You start reaching for the salt and pepper and hot sauce.  You start picking out the protein and vegetables and leaving the starch.  You start breathing heavily.  Your sense of struggle is heightened as you realise that you're not yet halfway through the obscene pile of food on your plate.  You find yourself thinking that it's no wonder that America is the fattest country on earth.

But look around you.  No one else at the table is even attempting to finish their serving.  Only a gluttonous fool eats much past that fourth mouthful.  No big deal.  The busboy appears and removes the Americans' unfinished meals.  Only we two Australians, raised in a different eating culture, doggedly persist.  We plough on, well past the point of discomfort and mocked by the knowledge that what we're now doing is actually unhealthy.  Eventually we concede defeat and the accusing plates are taken away.

"Now, I hope you folks have all left enough room for desert?"

And it begins again.