Ham on Wry: Salad instead of scampi? Not in this house.

My doctor wants me to abandon my diet and start a new regimen.

She says it would put me on a path to necessary weight reduction.

She’s asking me to make major adjustments to my typical menu, suggesting I eliminate fried foods, pizza, potatoes and pastas.

Also cheese, steak, sausages, burgers, cake, cookies and chocolate.

There’s yet another problem with her recommendations:

My bride is of Italian ancestry. The land of some of the greatest gastronomy on the planet.

In lieu of her extraordinary cuisine, the doctor wants me to have salad.

Salad!

She’s suggesting lettuce, spinach, cucumbers, quinoa, kale, tofu, lentils, hummus, edamame and cabbage.

In place of eggplant parmigiana, shrimp scampi, baked ziti, manicotti, stuffed shells, fettucine Alfredo, pasta pomodoro, meatballs, sausages, calzones, frittata or chicken cacciatore.

And her mostaccioli.

Also my wife’s homemade pasta rolls stuffed with spinach and ricotta cheese, then baked on a bed of tangy tomato sauce and buttery bechamel.

And rice.

But not just any rice: her fabulous risotto.

Arborio rice prepared by sauteing onions in olive oil, and adding chicken broth, butter and finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

Turns out, the doctor’s suggestion wasn’t merely a dietary adjustment; it was a sentence.

The question is, could I live on lettuce versus lasagna?

And would I want to?

Salad instead of scampi?

Kale as opposed to calamari?

Radicchio to replace ravioli?

Lentils not lasagna?

They’re all the sort of staples typically consumed by rabbits, the creatures that tend to live eight to 10 years.

Asking me to reject my wife’s cuisine is like suggesting I stop crossing the street.

Both carry risk, only one takes decades before a possible demise, versus just a few seconds.

So forsaking crossing instead of cacciatore makes infinite sense.

I should add here that the Hungarian cuisine my mother taught me to prepare is yet another gift too great to surrender.

Sacrifice goulash? Those tasty cubes of beef sauteed in olive oil, onions, garlic, carrots, mushrooms and wine, served with homemade noodles.

Or chicken paprikas, baked with onions, garlic, green peppers, broth, plus cream infused with imported paprika.

Or Langos: fried dough rubbed with fresh garlic, or served with sour cream or shredded cheese.

Stuffed cabbage, filled with ground pork, rice, and paprika, served over sauerkraut.

Fabulous desserts like strudel: cherries or apples baked in a golden-brown crispy crust.

Or dobos torta: pastry, prepared with multiple layers filled with chocolate buttercream and topped with caramel.

Szilvas gomboc: Plum dumplings made with fresh plums infused with cinnamon and sugar and wrapped in a dough composed of cooked potatoes, flour and eggs.

They’re boiled and rolled in breadcrumbs browned in butter, topped with powdered sugar, and served warm.

I’m not suggesting the doctor isn’t a gifted adviser, a learned and trusted counselor, blessed with any number of advanced degrees.

She’s just never eaten at our house.

Erdos is a freelance humor columnist. Contact him at irverdos@aol.com.