I’m having trouble deciding between the Fat Muffin and Fat Pound Cake. What’s a girl to do? Stop eating all her meals at delis? Surely you jest.

The menu at right is from a deli on 52nd and Broadway. (I don’t know the name of it even though I’ve eaten about 10,000 of their paninis. I ask for a little cup of Russian dressing on the side and dip the entire sandwich into it. It’s revolting. I love it.)

I’m guessing the inclusion of “fat” in the description is short for “fat-free.” Right? There are fat-free muffins everywhere. I can’t turn around without sinking my teeth into one and then spitting it out because it’s so ridiculously nasty. I feel like one of those kids with the eating disorder called pica, which causes one to eat dirt and rocks as if they were food. Apparently kids with pica can’t make the distinction. So basically I’m equating anyone who eats fat-free muffins… to a child afflicted with pica, stuffing twigs and bits of clay down her throat because she thinks it’s what she’s supposed to do. Just stop! It’s not worth it. Moral of the day:No letting pica/fat-free muffins get the better of you!

Fat-free pound cake is significantly less likely, though, largely because it’s called “pound cake.” There’s no way to make it un-fat. People who eat pound cake are either fat already or well on their way… at least in their minds. And they kind of love it.

I’m usually in the latter category. I like to buy pound cake just for the thriling, momentary recognition that I’m being a complete idiot… who’s about to really live it up for like three minutes. Pound cake is the worst and best thing you can do for yourself in a deli. They’re all delicious, but horrible for you, which is tragic, as a specimen such as myself can typically eat two or three in a sitting. (Sometimes I get up and walk around just so I can sit back down and tackle another.) Lemon poppyseed and cranberry walnut fat pound cakes do it for me sometimes, but I especially like the carrot cake variety with the cream-cheesy icing lining the top. (Why can’t it line the whole thing? Life would be so much more fulfilling.)

As a not-yet-fat person, when I buy pound cake, I’m semi-aware that in doing so I’m making a small pledge to become fat in the future. It’s like putting useless change you don’t want clinking in your jacket pockets into the plastic cancer box at McDonald’s. You don’t know it yet, Annie but you’re making a difference! I’m investing money, time, and a generous chunk of my thoughts for the day on pound cake and how the eating of it will likely backfire in the long run. But none of that matters at the time of purchase. Especially if I also just bought coffee and feel zany enough to do some dunking.

It could be that the deli is simply really proud of their muffins and pound cake. Perhaps they think that “plumping them up,” so to speak, will attract people. Maybe the muffin really is fat, round, and plentiful, just like you will be after you eat it. And maybe the pound cake is just that large and robust… and buttery… and delicious. Also just like you.

In that case, it might have helped to substitute the ph version of the letter f, for maximum cool factor. You know, get the kids involved. I bet any urban youth would feel pretty groovy both ordering and carrying around a “phat pound cake.” He could brag to his friends about it. “Aw, man, you just got standard pound cake. That shit’s over.'’