On Fat

I like bellies, generally. I photograph navels for the sake of art as well as for my own amusement.

My little portrait gallery, with its quiet, though cyclopean theme and tone, gives praise to the diversity, the expressiveness and symmetry of the American breadbasket.

One volunteer subject has registered the claim that two quarts of catsup will fit into the cavern which, in close-up, resembles Copernicus Crater on the moon's surface. He is a scientist and this would be, I assume, testable data.

However, fat is not a social boon. Deposits of blubber and fluff on very nice people call into question the matter of universal justice.

Saddlebags brimming with cookies and ice cream cause average people to appear short.

The well endowed paunch incites periodic guilt attacks and loss of good humor when long mirrors are present.

Complacent jowls and thighs tend to billow when running is necessary. This makes for terrific distress.

The spare tire, the draft horse rump, can indeed threaten the abdominal integrity of young men who insist on asserting their strength and invincibility by running laps around the kitchen while carrying surprised and unwilling plump persons who have been rendered helpless with horrified giggling and weak protests.

Fat is just not so good. It is, in these forms, a visible record of errant ways. There is even something sneery about the way it is spoken -- as if it is edging its way toward the arenas of sin and profanity.

But say butter or mocha fudge or roast beef and whole new set of images is conjured up. Cream. Mousse. Mayonnaise. Brie. En croute. Ham and eggs. These are lovely words. Hollandaise. Coconut. Waffles. They seduce.

They lure innocent cooks into experimentation, into preparing luxury foods for too frequent celebrations. Avocado dip. Deep Chocolate Truffles. Strudels. Sausages. Biegnets.

The cook is agog.

Now I would not have broached this delicate subject unless I felt that I could offer some small but worthy solution. And one that uses fruit in season, naturally.

I think you will find Grapefruit Ice to have a satisfying -- even exhilarating flavor -- it uses sugar, but no fat whatsoever. It would be perfect for brunch.

For a 2 quart batch, which is suitable, and which can be done a day in advance, incidentally, squeeze 6-7 grapefruit to yield:

5 C. fresh juice

Sprinkle:

1 envelope unflavored gelatin

over:

1/4 C. cold water

Allow to stand.

Meanwhile, mix together in a saucepan over high heat:

2 C. granulated sugar

1 C. boiling water

Stir with a wooden spoon until the mixture comes to a boil. Then boil without stirring for 2 minutes.

Remove from the heat, add the softened gelatin, and stir to dissolve. Add:

1/8 tsp

dash of salt.

Now stir the sugar mixture into the grapefruit juice. Cool to room temperature and then chill well before churning using the manufacturer's directions.

A note regarding the leftovers. Homemade ice will lose its creamy consistency after a time in the freezer. It gets slightly dry and flinty. If this happens, plan to re-beat this Ice before serving.

To do this, chill the bowl and beaters, or the bowl and blade of a food processor, and beat to a creamy consistency, a little at a time. Then refreeze until serving.

This is good for you. Have a modest serving: take a brisk walk. Now look into that mirror.

Lovely.