ZONE SEATTLE 300 Queen Anne Ave. N., #383, QUEEN ANNE, 206-236-ZONE, www.zoneseattle.net
7:48 A.M.
I’m reaching for the organic rice check cereal when I remember that today is the day I must start my diet. After a moment of quiet resignation (even when you know for a fact that you’re only going to be on it for one day, beginning a diet is a daunting task), I snap the cupboard shut and open the front door. A bread-box-sized, soft-sided cooler waits for me on my doorstep. Inside it is everything I will eat today.
Back in the kitchen, I empty the cooler of its contents. There are five of those high-quality, black-bottomed, clear-topped gourmet take-out containers: three medium-sized (for my three “40-30-30” squares), two small (for my two snacks). There is a menu sheet and a bullet-pointed note from Zone Seattle that reminds me to drink eight 8-ounce glasses of water, suggests meal/snack time intervals, and asks me to either please recycle or reuse the food containers. A gentle aroma begins to waft from my French press as I read the line item, Limit or eliminate coffee. Screw that. A girl’s got to have her vices.
8:37 A.M.
I have just finished reheating and eating one egg; a thick grilled tomato; a hunk of fresh, handmade mozzarella; and some fruit. It was great—the egg was perfectly poached, the tomato flavorful and tasty as if from a backyard barbecue, and my only grievance is that I could have had about three more hunks of that wonderful fresh cheese. Regardless, I feel like I have the right fuel to start my day—like all good diets, that’s one of this plan’s objectives.
The Zone diet is based on Dr. Barry Sears’ 1995 best-seller, The Zone: A Dietary Road Map to Lose Weight Permanently, Reset Your Genetic Code, Prevent Disease, Achieve Maximum Physical Performance, and though its title sounds rather ambitious (reset my genetic code? Can we do something about my hair color while we’re in there?), the diet is really fairly simple.
Fairly simple in theory, that is—and that’s where Zone Seattle comes in. On the Zone, portion size is carefully monitored. Additionally, 40 percent of what you eat must be carbohydrates from fruits and vegetables, 30 percent must be protein, and 30 percent favorable fat (fresh mozzarella, lucky us, is a favorable fat). Zone Seattle prepares “gourmet” food that fits within those specifications, and they deliver it to your door for 40 bucks a day.
12:02 P.M.
I’ve had two more cups of coffee. (I’ve never been that good at following rules.) Thankfully, lunch is delicious. What’s more, it even looks good. The two smallish sweet potato, soy, and black bean cakes resemble the more popular (and un-Zoned) crab variety, and with their sinful dollop of sour cream as dressing, they’re easily as good—far less heavy and greasy, too. Fresh sweet-corn-and-tomato salsa and a small green salad round out a perfect midday meal.
2:47 P.M.
A co-worker happens by as I am about to dig into my afternoon snack. He asks what I’m eating, and I say I’m on the Zone diet. He pretty much loses his cool.”Girl, I’ll tell you what zone you need to be in: You need to be in the Put Some Meat on Your Bones Zone. You don’t need a diet!”
And he’s right. Although over the years my weight has oscillated like a spastic yo-yo, I’ve been fairly thin for the last few years. But, as I tell my friend, that’s what makes me a good judge of this stuff. If even the skinny girl—the one who can (and does) eat pretty much whatever she wants to—likes the diet, you can be pretty sure that it’s good. Speaking of: Grilled radicchio with a spoon of ch趲e (goat cheese) and a sprinkle of pine nuts makes for a tart and surprisingly good afternoon snack. Once my friend leaves me alone, I finish it off happily. No wonder all the Beautiful People in L.A. are going for the Zone.
3:23 P.M.
I just walked to the Market and bought a little bag of powdered-sugar-covered doughnut holes. I’m a phony and a cheat, but damn, they were good.
6:04 P.M.
Although I’m still feeling impishly guilty, I’m looking forward to dinner. Even for a boxed meal—and especially for a diet boxed meal—the salad of grilled chicken, peppers, and onions with steamed broccoli looks great. Attention to detail and presentation have not been overlooked. The snappy, nutrient-rich vegetables beat the pants off of anything that’s ever been put in a Lean Cuisine box. Even the chicken is miraculously fresh, tender, and very nicely grilled. One thing this diet definitely has going for it is its homey, comforting, backyard summertime flair. Whoever’s manning the grill at the Zone Seattle headquarters is welcome at my barbecues anytime.
8:31 P.M.
Curled up with a book, I’m snacking on a sweet, gooey date stuffed with crunchy almonds, creamy ricotta cheese, and some vaguely out of place arugula. Better even than my usual Soy Dream Lil’ Dreamer sandwich—but then again, when I break it down, this little date costs about 10 times as much. Forty bucks a day is a lot to drop on a diet, but nonetheless, if I had money—and fat—to burn, I could stay in this zone for a good long time.
