Daniel sent us this one. He's been chipping away at this puzzle for years, ever since his gallbladder came out seven years ago. The core question is straightforward — what does a genuinely workable low-fat diet look like when you're out in the real world, hungry, staring at a menu, and you don't want to spend the next few hours regretting your choices? But he's also asking something deeper — what's the actual target? What number are we aiming for if we want to minimize symptoms without creating new problems?
Before we get into the numbers, I should mention — DeepSeek V four Pro is handling the script today. So if anything comes out unusually coherent, that's why.
Or if it doesn't, that's on you.
But let's start with what Daniel described, because his image of the leaky pipe is actually not far off. The gallbladder normally stores and concentrates bile, then squeezes it out in a bolus when fat hits the small intestine. Without that reservoir, bile just trickles in continuously from the liver — low concentration, low volume. Then a fatty meal shows up, and you don't have the concentrated surge of bile you need to emulsify it properly. The fat passes through partially undigested, and that's where the gastrointestinal fireworks begin.
Daniel mentioned something that I think doesn't get enough attention. He said there's emerging evidence that this constant drip isn't just harmless background plumbing. It might actually be causing chronic low-grade inflammation. What's the state of that research?
He's right to be suspicious. What we're talking about is bile acid malabsorption, or BAM, and post-cholecystectomy it's extremely common. The continuous trickle means bile acids reach the colon when they shouldn't be there. In the colon, bile acids are irritants — they stimulate water secretion, they increase mucosal permeability. There was a paper in Gut a few years back that showed bile acids can directly activate inflammatory pathways in the colonic epithelium. It's not just an acute response to a fatty meal. There's a chronic component where the constant low-level exposure to bile acids in the wrong place keeps the gut lining in a state of low-grade inflammation.
It's not just "I ate a burger and now I'm uncomfortable." It's "my gut is in a constant state of mild irritation, and the burger tips it over the edge.
And that changes how you think about dietary management. It's not just about avoiding acute episodes. It's about keeping the baseline load low enough that your gut lining isn't constantly inflamed. Because when it is, everything becomes a trigger — even meals that should be fine.
Alright, so let's get practical. Daniel wants numbers. He wants to know what a fat-restricted diet actually means in grams per day, and then how that translates into real-world meals where you're not pulling out a calculator at the drive-through.
Let's ground this in clinical guidelines. The standard definition of a low-fat diet is typically less than thirty percent of total calories from fat. For someone eating two thousand calories a day, that's about sixty-five grams of fat. But that's a general health guideline. For someone with post-cholecystectomy symptoms, especially significant ones, the therapeutic target is usually lower. Most GI dietitians I've spoken with aim for forty to fifty grams per day, spread across multiple small meals.
Daniel asked what's the minimum before you start causing problems.
This is crucial. You cannot go below about fifteen to twenty grams per day without risking essential fatty acid deficiency. Your body needs linoleic acid and alpha-linolenic acid — these are essential, meaning you can't synthesize them. They're required for cell membrane integrity, hormone production, immune function. The Institute of Medicine set the adequate intake for linoleic acid at seventeen grams per day for adult men. But that's the total, and you can meet it with very little fat if it's the right kind. Practically speaking, twenty grams is the absolute floor for basic physiological function, and even that is restrictive.
We've got a window — somewhere between twenty grams and about fifty grams daily. Below twenty, you're courting nutritional deficiencies. Above fifty, for someone like Daniel, you're probably in symptom territory. And that's not a huge window.
It's not. Which is why the meal composition matters so much. Let's take Daniel's hamburger scenarios. He laid out four situations, and I want to put actual numbers on them because I think it'll be eye-opening.
Let's use real USDA data. A Big Mac — just the burger, standard preparation — comes in at about thirty grams of fat. A Whopper is closer to forty grams of fat. That's one sandwich. If your daily ceiling is forty to fifty grams, a single Whopper basically maxes you out for the day. And that's before fries, before a drink, before anything else.
In scenario one — the generous hamburger with all the condiments — Daniel's looking at thirty to forty grams of fat in a single meal. That's nearly his entire daily budget.
Scenario two — same burger, skip the condiments. Mayonnaise is the big one. One tablespoon of mayo is about ten grams of fat. Special sauce on a Big Mac — similar. So dropping the condiments might save you ten to fifteen grams. You're still at twenty to twenty-five grams for the burger itself, which is manageable if the rest of your day is lean. But it's still a big hit.
Scenario three is where Daniel tries to be strategic — chicken burger instead of beef. He's right that chicken is generally leaner, but he's also right that fast-food establishments aren't optimizing for low fat.
A McDonald's McChicken is about nineteen grams of fat. A Chick-fil-A original chicken sandwich is about eighteen grams. So you're saving maybe ten to twelve grams versus a beef burger. That's meaningful — it brings you from "this is my entire fat budget" to "this is about a third of my fat budget." But here's the catch: the chicken is often fried, and the breading soaks up oil. A grilled chicken sandwich at Chick-fil-A drops to six grams of fat. That's the real difference-maker.
Six grams versus eighteen. Same establishment, same basic category of food, but one decision cuts the fat by two-thirds.
That's the kind of thing Daniel was asking about — having parameters to judge what's going to be too much. Because you're not going to know the exact number, but you can develop an intuition. Fried versus grilled. Creamy sauce versus mustard. Cheese versus no cheese. Each of those decisions is worth somewhere between five and fifteen grams of fat.
Let's talk about cheese for a second, because I think people underestimate it. A single slice of American cheese is about six grams of fat. Cheddar is about nine grams per slice. You add two slices to a burger and you've just added twelve to eighteen grams of fat before you even get to the meat.
Cheese is one of those stealthy high-fat foods because it doesn't feel greasy. It feels like protein. But ounce for ounce, cheddar cheese is about thirty-three grams of fat per hundred grams. That's comparable to some cuts of beef.
Let's build out the rest of the meal landscape, because Daniel's question is really about being out and about, hungry, and needing to make a quick decision. What are the categories of food he should be thinking about?
Let me organize this by total meal fat content. I'll give you tiers.
Tiers — I like tiers.
Tier one — under ten grams of fat for a full meal. This is your safe zone. A grilled chicken breast with steamed vegetables and rice — about six grams. A turkey sandwich on whole wheat with mustard, no cheese, no mayo — maybe five grams. Sushi rolls with lean fish, no tempura, no cream cheese — eight to ten grams for a full roll. Bean-based soups with a bread roll. These are meals you can eat without really thinking about it.
Ten to twenty grams. This is your "be careful but still okay" zone, assuming you're spreading your fat across the day. A grilled chicken sandwich with a small amount of sauce. A slice of cheese pizza — about ten to twelve grams per slice, so two slices puts you at twenty to twenty-four. A tuna sandwich with light mayo. A chicken burrito bowl with no cheese, no sour cream, no guacamole — you're probably around fifteen grams.
Then tier three is anything above twenty grams in a single meal, which for someone on a forty-gram daily budget is half your allocation.
Tier three is the danger zone for post-cholecystectomy folks. A full restaurant hamburger with fries — easily forty to fifty grams. Fettuccine Alfredo — the sauce alone can be thirty grams of fat per serving. A steak and loaded baked potato — fifty-plus grams. These are meals where you either split the portion, modify heavily, or accept that you're going to have symptoms.
The portion-splitting point is interesting because Daniel mentioned it. He said smaller portions help, but when you're really hungry, you just need to eat. And he's right — there's a practicality issue. You can't always just eat a quarter of a baguette and call it lunch.
Which is why the meal frequency matters. One of the strategies that works well for post-cholecystectomy patients is eating five or six small meals instead of three large ones. The physiology behind this is straightforward — if bile is constantly trickling in at a low rate, smaller, more frequent meals mean you're never overwhelming the system. Each meal has less fat, so the bile you do have can handle it.
Daniel's out and about. He's not sitting at home with six perfectly portioned Tupperware containers. He's standing in front of a food court trying to figure out what won't make him miserable.
Let's talk about the food court strategy. What's available? You've got sandwich shops, you've got Asian food, you've got pizza, you've got burger places, maybe a Mexican place. I want to walk through each.
Start with sandwiches.
Sandwich shops are actually one of the easiest places to manage fat intake because everything is modular. You can see what's going on. Turkey, chicken breast, or lean roast beef — those are your base proteins, each around two to three grams of fat per three-ounce serving. Skip the cheese, skip the mayo, load up on vegetables. Mustard is essentially zero fat. A six-inch sub on whole wheat with turkey, lots of veggies, and mustard — you're looking at five to seven grams of fat total.
The trap to watch for?
Tuna salad and chicken salad. They're made with mayonnaise. A tuna salad sandwich from Subway has about twenty-five grams of fat. People think "tuna, that's healthy" and they're getting half their daily fat budget in one sandwich.
Good option if you're selective. Steamed rice with stir-fried vegetables and a lean protein — chicken or shrimp — in a non-fried sauce like soy, teriyaki, or oyster sauce. You're around eight to twelve grams for a typical takeout container. But avoid anything described as "crispy" or "crunchy" — that means fried. Avoid coconut-based curries — coconut milk is almost entirely saturated fat. A Thai green curry can be thirty grams of fat per serving.
I love how "crispy" has become code for "we submerged this in oil.
It absolutely is. "Crispy" means fried. "Crunchy" means fried. "Golden" means fried. The restaurant industry has a whole vocabulary for "we put this in a deep fryer.
This is where the customization really matters. A burrito bowl with rice, black beans, chicken, salsa, lettuce, and pico de gallo — no cheese, no sour cream, no guacamole — that's about twelve grams of fat. Add guacamole and you're adding about fifteen grams of fat just from the avocado. Add sour cream and cheese and you've doubled or tripled the fat content. The base ingredients are lean — it's the toppings that get you.
Pizza is tough because the fat is baked in, literally. The cheese is integral to the dish. A single slice of a large cheese pizza from Domino's is about ten grams of fat. Two slices is twenty grams. Three slices is thirty grams. Most people don't eat one slice of pizza. So if you're going to eat pizza, you're probably eating twenty to thirty grams of fat minimum, and that's without pepperoni or sausage, which add about three to five grams per slice.
Pizza is basically tier three almost no matter what.
Unless you're eating a very thin-crust Margherita with minimal cheese. But even then, you're probably at eight to ten grams per slice. It adds up quickly.
Let's step back from specific foods and talk about the broader framework Daniel was asking for. He wants to know what a well-balanced, low-fat diet looks like that doesn't just avoid symptoms but actually provides adequate nutrition. And he specifically mentioned protein and micronutrients.
This is where a lot of people go wrong when they try to eat low-fat. They cut out fat but don't replace it with anything. They end up eating mostly carbohydrates, often refined carbs, and they're hungry all the time because fat and protein are what drive satiety. So the first principle is: when you reduce fat, you need to increase lean protein.
What does adequate protein look like in practice?
For an adult male, you're looking at about zero point eight grams per kilogram of body weight as a minimum. For someone who's active, more like one point two to one point six grams per kilogram. For a seventy-five kilogram person, that's sixty to one hundred twenty grams of protein per day. That's a lot of chicken breast — about three hundred grams of cooked chicken breast is about ninety grams of protein and about ten grams of fat.
You could theoretically hit your protein targets while staying well within your fat budget if you're strategic about protein sources.
Let me give you a list of lean protein sources and their fat content per hundred grams. Skinless chicken breast: about three and a half grams of fat, thirty-one grams of protein. Turkey breast: about one gram of fat, thirty grams of protein. Egg whites: zero grams of fat, eleven grams of protein. Non-fat Greek yogurt: zero grams of fat, ten grams of protein. Tuna packed in water: less than one gram of fat, twenty-five grams of protein. Cod, tilapia, haddock — all under one gram of fat, about twenty grams of protein.
The ones to be careful with?
Salmon is healthy but it's fatty — about thirteen grams of fat per hundred grams. Eggs, whole — about ten grams of fat per hundred grams, which is roughly two large eggs. Beef, even lean cuts like sirloin, about eight grams of fat per hundred grams. Pork tenderloin is surprisingly lean — about four grams. But pork shoulder or ribs — twenty-plus grams.
You could build a day that hits sixty grams of protein and only twenty grams of fat.
Breakfast: non-fat Greek yogurt with berries and a small handful of almonds — about five grams of fat, fifteen grams of protein. Lunch: a turkey sandwich on whole wheat with mustard and vegetables — about five grams of fat, twenty-five grams of protein. Dinner: grilled cod with steamed broccoli and quinoa — about six grams of fat, thirty grams of protein. That's sixteen grams of fat and seventy grams of protein for the day. Add a snack of an apple and a hard-boiled egg white and you're still under twenty grams of fat with about eighty grams of protein.
Let's be honest — that day sounds fine, but it also sounds like a lot of meal prep and not a lot of spontaneity. Daniel's question is about being out and hungry.
That's the tension. The more you're eating out, the harder it is to stay in that twenty to forty gram range. Restaurant food is engineered to taste good, and fat is the primary vehicle for flavor. Restaurants are not trying to minimize fat — they're trying to maximize deliciousness.
What's the realistic target for someone who's not going to meal-prep every day? Is it forty grams?
I think for someone with significant post-cholecystectomy symptoms, forty grams is a good target that allows for some flexibility. At forty grams, you can have a fast-food grilled chicken sandwich for lunch — six grams — and still have thirty-four grams left for dinner. That's enough for a reasonable restaurant meal if you're thoughtful about it. At fifty grams, you've got even more room. The key is knowing where the big fat bombs are and avoiding them.
Let's talk about those fat bombs. The things that seem innocent but pack twenty-plus grams of fat.
Pastries and baked goods are number one on my list. A croissant is about twelve grams of fat. A muffin from a coffee shop — fifteen to twenty grams. A scone — fifteen grams. People think "it's just a muffin" and it's a third of their daily fat budget. Salad dressings are another trap. A Caesar salad with dressing and croutons and parmesan — that's easily twenty-five grams of fat. You ordered a salad thinking you were being virtuous and you got more fat than a hamburger.
A grande latte with whole milk from Starbucks — about seven grams of fat, which is fine. A grande mocha with whipped cream — about fifteen grams of fat. A Frappuccino — twenty-plus grams depending on the size and toppings. You're drinking a meal's worth of fat through a straw.
Nuts and seeds.
Healthy fats, but still fats. A quarter cup of almonds is about fourteen grams of fat. Trail mix — twenty grams per half cup. These are foods that are marketed as healthy, and they are, but they're calorie-dense and fat-dense. For someone managing fat intake, you have to portion them carefully.
The pattern here is that a lot of the foods that sneak up on you are the ones where the fat is hidden in processing. You don't see the oil in the muffin batter. You don't see the butter in the croissant dough. You don't see the cream in the salad dressing.
That's why Daniel's instinct to look at nutritional labels is exactly right, even though he said he never thought about nutrition before the surgery. Once you start looking, you develop a sense for it. You learn that anything with a creamy texture probably has fat. Anything flaky or tender probably has fat — that's what fat does in baking, it shortens the gluten strands and creates that texture. Anything fried, obviously. Anything with visible oil or butter.
Let's talk about the fat-soluble nutrient issue Daniel raised. He said you can't just cut out fat because you need it for nutrient absorption. How do you thread that needle?
Fat-soluble vitamins — A, D, E, and K — require dietary fat for absorption. But the amount required is surprisingly small. Studies show that as little as three to five grams of fat in a meal is sufficient to facilitate absorption of fat-soluble vitamins from that meal. So if you're eating a salad with fat-soluble vitamins — the carotenoids in carrots, the vitamin K in leafy greens — you need a small amount of fat with it. But we're talking a teaspoon of olive oil or a few slices of avocado, not a heavy dressing.
Three to five grams is nothing. That's a drizzle of oil.
So the concern about fat-soluble vitamin deficiency on a low-fat diet is mostly theoretical for someone eating twenty to forty grams of fat per day, spread across meals. You're getting enough fat at each meal to absorb those vitamins. The real risk is for people on extremely low-fat diets — under ten grams per day — which is essentially a rice-and-vegetables diet with no added fat at all. That's where you start seeing deficiencies.
Essential fatty acids?
The requirement for linoleic acid — the main omega-six essential fatty acid — is about seventeen grams per day for adult men. But here's the thing: linoleic acid is found in almost all vegetable oils and in many whole foods. Even a low-fat diet that includes some nuts, seeds, or a small amount of oil will meet the requirement. A single tablespoon of soybean oil has about seven grams of linoleic acid. So meeting the essential fatty acid requirement on a forty-gram fat diet is not difficult. It becomes a concern below about fifteen grams of total fat per day.
The sweet spot really is that twenty to forty gram range. Below twenty, you start risking deficiencies. Above forty or fifty, you start triggering symptoms. And within that window, you can get adequate protein, adequate micronutrients, and adequate essential fatty acids.
I want to emphasize something Daniel hinted at — the psychological burden of all this. He said he doesn't wish to think this way, but it's become a reflex. And that's real. Constantly scanning menus, mentally calculating fat grams, worrying about whether a meal is going to make you uncomfortable — that's a cognitive load that people without this condition don't appreciate.
There's a term for this in the eating disorder literature — cognitive dietary restraint. It's the mental energy spent constantly monitoring and restricting food intake. And even when it's medically necessary, it's exhausting.
Which is why having heuristics matters. You can't be doing arithmetic at every meal. You need rules of thumb. Fried food, creamy sauces, cheese, pastries — these are your red flags. Grilled lean proteins, steamed vegetables, broth-based soups, mustard instead of mayo — these are your green lights. Over time, it becomes more automatic.
Let's get even more concrete. Daniel asked about specific meals and their fat content. Let's build out a few more examples so listeners have a reference point.
Let's do breakfast first, because it sets the tone for the day. A typical American breakfast — two eggs, two strips of bacon, toast with butter — that's about twenty-five grams of fat. Compare that to oatmeal made with water, with a tablespoon of peanut butter and a banana — about nine grams of fat, and the peanut butter gives you some healthy fat and protein. Or a smoothie with non-fat Greek yogurt, frozen berries, and a tablespoon of flaxseed — about five grams of fat.
A typical deli sandwich with ham, cheese, and mayo — about twenty-five grams of fat. Swap to turkey, no cheese, mustard — about five grams. A Chipotle bowl with chicken, rice, black beans, fajita vegetables, and salsa — about twelve grams of fat. Add cheese and sour cream and you're at twenty-five. The difference between those two bowls is entirely in the toppings.
Grilled salmon with roasted vegetables and quinoa — about eighteen grams of fat, mostly from the salmon. That's a healthy meal, but it's using a third to half of your daily fat budget. Substitute cod or tilapia and you drop to about six grams. A pasta with marinara sauce and a side salad — about eight grams. Pasta with Alfredo sauce — thirty-plus grams. The sauce is the difference between a safe meal and a problematic one.
A lot of this comes down to sauce selection.
Sauce selection, cooking method, and toppings. Those three things probably account for eighty percent of the variation in fat content between similar-looking meals. A grilled chicken breast by itself is about four grams of fat. Bread it and fry it, it's fifteen grams. Add cheese and bacon, it's twenty-five. Same base protein, completely different fat load.
Let's talk about eating out specifically, because Daniel framed his question around being out and about. What are the safest restaurant cuisines for low-fat eating?
Japanese is probably the best, if you stick to sushi and sashimi. A typical sushi meal — miso soup, edamame, a tuna roll, and some sashimi — is going to be under fifteen grams of fat. Avoid tempura, avoid rolls with cream cheese or spicy mayo. Vietnamese pho is excellent — the broth is essentially fat-free, the rice noodles are fat-free, and you're getting lean protein from the beef or chicken. A large bowl of pho is maybe eight to ten grams of fat.
What about Middle Eastern?
Hummus is about five grams of fat per two-tablespoon serving. Falafel is fried, so it's higher — about fifteen grams for a serving. But grilled chicken shawarma with tabbouleh and pickled vegetables, no excessive tahini — you're around twelve to fifteen grams. The pita bread itself is low-fat. The danger is the fried items and the heavy sauces.
Tricky because a lot of Indian cooking starts with ghee or oil. But tandoori dishes are essentially grilled and marinated in yogurt — a tandoori chicken with rice and dal is about fifteen grams of fat. Avoid the creamy curries — tikka masala, korma, butter chicken — those are thirty-plus grams per serving. Dal is actually a great low-fat protein source — about four grams of fat per cup, nine grams of protein.
The pattern across cuisines is consistent — grilled proteins, broth-based or tomato-based sauces, steamed or boiled grains, and vegetables prepared without excessive oil.
That's actually a pretty good diet by any standard. It's not just a medically necessary diet — it's a healthy diet. Low in saturated fat, high in lean protein, plenty of fiber from vegetables and whole grains.
There's a silver lining. Though I suspect Daniel would trade the healthier diet for a functioning gallbladder and a guilt-free pizza.
Let's talk about one more thing Daniel mentioned — the idea of working backward from known triggers. He said if he knows that sixty grams of fat in a meal triggers symptoms, maybe he can work back from there. And that's actually a really useful approach.
How would someone figure out their personal threshold?
It requires some deliberate experimentation, which is not fun when the consequence of getting it wrong is gastrointestinal distress. But the basic approach is to start low — maybe twenty grams of fat for a couple of days — and see if symptoms resolve. Then gradually increase by five to ten grams per day until you find the point where symptoms reappear. Most people with post-cholecystectomy syndrome find their threshold somewhere between thirty and fifty grams per day, but it's individual.
It's probably not just total grams — it's grams per meal, right? Because the bile trickle can handle small amounts continuously, but a big bolus of fat in one meal overwhelms it.
The meal-level threshold is probably more important than the daily total. Someone might tolerate fifty grams spread across five meals — ten grams each — but have symptoms with a single thirty-gram meal. The bile production rate just can't ramp up fast enough without a gallbladder.
The advice is not just "keep total fat under forty grams." It's "don't eat more than about fifteen grams of fat in any single meal.
And that's a much harder constraint when you're eating out, because restaurant meals are not designed with a fifteen-gram fat ceiling. A typical restaurant entree is twenty to forty grams of fat. So you're either modifying, splitting, or accepting that restaurant meals are going to be your main fat event for the day and keeping everything else very lean.
Let's put together a practical framework. If you're someone like Daniel, post-cholecystectomy, trying to manage symptoms while still eating out and having a life, what's the daily strategy?
I'd say four principles. One: aim for forty grams of total fat per day as a starting point, adjusting up or down based on your personal tolerance. Two: keep individual meals under fifteen grams of fat, which means most restaurant meals need modification. Three: prioritize lean proteins at every meal — chicken breast, turkey, fish, egg whites, non-fat dairy — to maintain satiety and muscle mass. Four: learn the high-fat traps — fried food, creamy sauces, cheese, pastries, salad dressings, coffee drinks — and either avoid them or account for them in your daily budget.
The fifth principle, which you didn't say but I think is implied: don't let perfect be the enemy of good. If you're out with friends and you eat a meal that's thirty grams of fat, you haven't failed. You've just used more of your budget than usual. Tomorrow is another day.
That's important. The psychological burden we talked about — part of it comes from perfectionism. The feeling that if you can't eat perfectly, you've failed. But this is a chronic condition. It's a marathon, not a sprint. Some days you'll be at twenty grams, some days you'll be at fifty. The goal is to keep the average in a range where you're not constantly symptomatic and not nutritionally deficient.
For what it's worth, Daniel, you've been managing this for seven years. The fact that you're still refining your approach, still asking questions, still trying to optimize — that's not a sign that you're doing it wrong. That's a sign that you're taking it seriously.
I'd add one more practical tip. The Mayo Clinic's guidance on post-cholecystectomy diet recommends keeping a food diary for a couple of weeks. Not forever — just long enough to identify patterns. Write down what you eat, the approximate fat content, and any symptoms. After two weeks, you'll probably see a clear threshold emerge. That's your number.
Once you have your number, you can stop counting and start using heuristics. You'll know that a grilled chicken sandwich is fine, a burger with cheese is borderline, and fettuccine Alfredo is off the table.
The counting is a calibration exercise. The goal is to internalize it so you don't have to count anymore.
Now: Hilbert's daily fun fact.
Hilbert: The bacterium Deinococcus radiodurans was first isolated in the nineteen-forties from canned meat that had spoiled despite being sterilized with radiation. Its name literally means "strange berry that withstands radiation.
A bacterium named after a strange berry. I don't know what to do with that.
I'm just impressed it survived radiation.
So to wrap this up — Daniel, you've been chipping away at this puzzle for seven years, and I think the answer is both simpler and more nuanced than you might expect. The target is somewhere between twenty and forty grams of fat per day, spread across meals so no single meal exceeds about fifteen grams. You can meet all your nutritional needs within that window — protein, micronutrients, essential fatty acids — if you're thoughtful about food choices. And the real-world strategy comes down to a few reliable heuristics: grilled over fried, mustard over mayo, tomato sauce over cream sauce, and always check what's hiding in the dressing.
If you're out and hungry, staring at a menu with no nutritional information — which is most restaurants — remember the tier system. Grilled chicken or fish with vegetables and rice is almost always safe. Anything described as crispy, creamy, or fried is going to be a significant fat hit. And when in doubt, eat half and take the rest home.
Thanks to Hilbert Flumingtop for producing. This has been My Weird Prompts. Find us at myweirdprompts dot com or wherever you get your podcasts.
See you next time.
