"The Last Supper" Menu

Nearly everyone is familiar with Leonardo's acclaimed "Last Supper". It ranks right up there with "The Mona Lisa" as one of the more famous works of art. Scholars have long pondered the religious themes. Art historians have studied the numerous lesser versions.

Now there's a group of obesity researchers in England who are looking at the paintings from a completely different angle. Food -- specifically the amount of it on the table in the various renderings. Researchers studied 52 versions and noted that the more recent ones depict about 70% more food, thus reflecting periods of affluence and abundance in a culture.

Perhaps we need to put the kibosh on further 21st century versions. The way Americans eat, we could soon see fast food wrappers, Chinese take-out containers, or super-sized cola drinks at that holy repast. Of course, if the artist is into a more healthy diet, they'd opt for bran muffins, edamame and tofu.

Pomegranates -- With Chocolate, Please

Pomegranates -- currently high on the list of wonder foods. Tauted as a source of anti-oxidants and vitamins. Could be, but has anyone calculated the time it takes to pry those little berries from their comb. Plus you have to eat a lot of them to feel satisfied. I'm not sure it's worth it.

Compare it to crab. The shell cracking. The separation of the meat from the innards. Unbelievably messy. Time consuming. But what a payoff!

But let's not blame the innocent pomegranate. We've all fallen for the hype that accompanies the cult of omega-3s, fiber, lo-fat, non-fat and whatever is the diet du jour. One of the TV docs recommends the fruit -- et voila -- pomegranate jam, juice, ice cream, chips are available at your corner grocer.

I admit to falling -- hard. My latest sortie into the world of pomegranates was a total impulse. The siren song of dark chocolate covered pomegranate seeds wafted to check-out lane number 7 where I waited to unload my shopping cart.

Chocolate -- ah, food of the gods! I'll eat almost anything covered with it. Here before me, in one small package, was the promise of chocolate and nutrition -- a combination made in heaven. The very idea of chocolate made me weak. If I were a captured government agent, all the enemy would have to do is give me chocolate and I'd blab atomic formulas in a New York minute.

I caved. The noshing began on my way to the car. Nearly half the package was gone before I got home -- and I don't live that far from the market. I never did read the label to find out the nutritional benefits. Nutrition be damned! Chocolate made my world go 'round.

Phoning In Your Sins

In elementary school, the nuns taught us how to confess our sins. The whole procedure was a bit daunting for a 7 year old. At that age, you really had to dig deep for sins. When I refused to eat broccoli was I disrespecting my mother or just being stubborn? Both were sins according to the nun's list of possibilities so it was just a matter of which commandment I chose to violate. Of course, locating sins became easier the older I got but the actual confession part remained as daunting as ever.

In case you don't know about confession here's how it goes. First you examine your conscience. The easiest way is by commandment. Start with the first one and mentally scroll through the other nine. That should give you a list of no-nos to tell the priest for which he will forgive you, pending your saying a few prayers.

It's all supposed to be anonymous but I always felt the priest could see through the mesh screen that separated us and, after 8 years of elementary school, I was sure he recognized my voice. I was afraid he'd tell my parents what a sinner I was, but it's all confidential even the mortal -- or "you did what!" -- sins. Ah, the trauma of Catholic school.

According to NPR, the French have modernized the confessional process by inventing a, well, phone line to the Lord. Just dial the number, press trois, et voila, you're asked to spill your sinful guts.

Do you think there'll be an app for that on my smart phone?