Glenn Reynolds:

THE FATTENING OF AMERICA: So the Insta-Daughter and I went for lunch at Ruby Tuesday’s. That’s not news, as we go there regularly. They had a new menu, which isn’t news either, as they get new menus on a near-monthly basis.

What’s new is that almost everything on it was fattening to the max.

They used to show the calories on the menu, along with other nutrition information. Not any more, and with good reason. A simple Cheeseburger is 1120 calories—equal to two Big Macs—and even the Turkey Burger, which you’d expect would be healthy (and which used to be) is 824 calories, more than a Whopper with cheese. And it’s that way across the menu.

I don’t mind that they have fattening stuff on the menu, but they seem to have stripped off almost all the old healthy favorites. The steaks are the lowest-calorie offerings left.

We got up and left without ordering; there wasn’t anything we wanted. We won’t be back until they change the menu again, which is too bad because we’ve always liked the place.

I think it is marvelous that most restaurants are now catering to those on diets or who wish to eat healthy food. In that cutthroat industry, anything that can put fannies in the seats can help a business stay afloat longer than the 2 years that the National Restaurant Association says the average restaurant survives.

But I would take exactly the opposite approach. For you see, I’m one of those mossbacks who believes that going out to eat is an occasion, a time to throw off the constraints imposed by diet and healthy eating in order to make an absolute pig of oneself. And if it ultimately takes a few days off my lifespan, I would consider that a small price to pay for the sheer pleasure of filling up on the greasiest, the fattiest, the most obnoxiously decadent repasts that the human mind is capable of contemplating.

As such, I would open my very own restaurant which would cater solely and exclusively to those who worship Dionysus and Bacchus and wish to indulge to excess their desire for artery clogging, calorie topping, diet busting, life shortening vittles.

I would call it “The Fat People’s Republic” and there would be no finger-wagging or head shaking when a customer ordered a double cheeseburger with cheesefries and a large coke. Nor would anyone bat an eyelash when someone wanted extra mayo with their liverwurst. All employees would receive training in keeping a straight face and civil tongue in their heads regardless of what kind of greasy slop a customer ordered.

But my innovations would extend far beyond the food served. These would included extra wide chairs with a half moon portion of the table carved out so that those with generous paunches would be able to get close to the table. And the bread basket would be on railroad tracks so that no one would ever have to reach for the fresh rolls. The basket would have a string leading to each seating placement (color matched to the table cloth, of course) that each diner would be able to pull on in order to bring the freshly baked hot bread to the watering mouth of the customer.

Also, there would be a scientifically designed table layout that insured no one would ever have to endure someone’s overly ample rear brushing their shoulder as they moved toward their table. Leg rests for those wishing to prop their feet up after they eat would also be made available. Everyone knows that elevating the legs after eating assists digestion.

No calories would be listed on the menu. No fat counts. It is assumed that the diner knows the consequences of eating Lardo Pizza or Fatty Duck so that no warnings would appear anywhere on the menu regarding the life shortening fare I would offer.

No salad bar. But nachos, 3 different kinds of fritos, 10 different varieties of potato chips, and 11 different dips would be available for appetizers.

Desert would be mandatory or double the check. And speaking of desert, gimme some of this!

ANTONY Worrall Thompson never does things by halves. He “gives it large” every time he cooks, from the enourmous steaks he serves in his organic-beef theme restaurant in Britain to the rich dessert now described as the fattiest food ever.

A single slice of the Worrall Thompson’s Snickers pie dessert contains more than 1250 calories, according to Britain’s Food Commission.

The recipe includes five Snickers bars with mascarpone, eggs, sugar, cream cheese and puff pastry.

Each serving contains the equivalent of 22 teaspoons of fat and 11 teaspoons of sugar, the Food Commission said.

I think my restaurant would thrive for decades. Unless the thin people take over the world in which case I would have to go underground. Or be reduced to selling Twinkies and Ho-Ho’s off the back of a truck.