Eating healthily is a sensible, if not always pleasurable, endeavor. The quest to count calories, part of the game, also provides an interesting narrative to otherwise mundane eating experiences. I really enjoy reading the nutritional information (and ingredients) on things like the intangibly pleasing Slim Jim. But culinary watchdog-ism can go too far, and after reading this Guardian story I think that in New York it has.

From now on, all chains with at least 15 outlets in the NY metropolitan area must publish, on their menus, the calorie counts of their different dishes. Besides reducing eating to a numbers game, I think that this is just one more indication of the lack of intellect and/or common sense of American consumer. If you’re fat, and you eat a lot of fast food, one might surmise that that food is fatty and that you should eat less of it. Does anyone, anywhere, really think that a Whopper or a bucket of KFC or a Big Mac is not killing them softly?

It’s sad that government feels the need to protect people from things they put in their mouth. You’d think that our species would have evolved past this point where the mayor thinks it’s necessary to order for the table. Food safety is one thing, food sense quite another.

My labrador Chauncey, on the other hand, could use some nutritional guidance. But it’d be hard to stick a label on the month-old chicken bones he pries from underneath the dumpster, or the dusty socks hiding beneath my sofa. Maybe scratch-and-sniff stickers would work.

"I know I shouldn't - these old Pumas are soooooo high in cholesterol. Maybe I'll have a dirty tissue instead..."