Little plates make full tummies. Better not throw away my daughters' old tea set.

Very recently, the Center for Nutrition Policy & Promotion (CNPP), a joint department shared between the Department of Agriculture and HHS, revealed their new icon for the 2010 Dietary Guidelines for Americans.  They took the bold step of throwing out the head-scratching food pyramid for something we can all relate to:  a plate.  On this plate, they have half of it dedicated to fruits and vegetables and the remainder dedicated to lean proteins and whole grains.  On a personal level, I like the new icon a lot and see it as a huge improvement over the old food pyramid.  Why?  Two reasons:

1. I like what it says.  I really like the way that the more cutting edge advice in food choices is becoming pretty simple and common sensical:  focus on eating real foods that have real nutrition.  I am obviously biased as this is what PointsPlus is all about, and it reflects the way I eat (or at least aspire to) these days.  
2. I like how it says it.  Call me odd, but I have never had occasion to serve my food on a serving dish laid out like a pyramid.  I've known about the food pyramid since its introduction almost 20 years ago, and it never once has caused me to re-think how I eat.  The plate on the other hand is something I definitely relate to.  Visualizing what I'm putting on my plate makes a lot of sense to me.  I also really like the basic message of filling half my plate with fruits and vegetables.  Nothing like a simple message to penetrate the severe bone density of my skull.  

However, there is another message of the dietary guidelines (and PointsPlus) that doesn't really find its way onto the new plate icon:  portion control.  How big a plate are we talking about?  Hopefully not a platter.  

I'm assuming that the Lego disciples were able to
make do with little Lego plates

There was a very amusing study published last year that looked at artistic renderings of the Last Supper over the past 1,000 years.  Using some sophisticated computer analysis comparing the size of plates and loaves of bread to the size of heads (I'm glad I wasn't in the paintings -- my gravity inducing noggin would have distorted the results), they were able to measure how artistic views of serving sizes had changed.  Lo and behold (pardon my religiosity), over the past millennium, plate sizes have increased an average of 66% with the biggest gains being scored around the year 1500.  I guess no one can blame Coke and Pepsi for that one.  

More recently (i.e., the 90's), plate sizes have increased from 10 inches to 12 inches, an increase of 20%.  Does this matter?  According to our new friend Professor Wansink (I'm starting to feel like his PR coordinator), it matters quite a bit.  Time for another game of human experimentation.  

• Experiment #1:  At an ice cream social (the opposite of a Weight Watchers meeting), the researchers gave their test subjects either 17 oz bowls or 34 oz bowls.  Those who were given the larger bowls served themselves up 31% more ice cream.  When given a larger scoop to go with their great big bowl, they served up 57% more ice cream.  
• Experiment #2:  Test subjects served a medium-sized hamburger on a smaller plate (a saucer) estimated their burger to have 18% more calories than when it was served on a regulation-sized plate.  

Basically, the point is that our eyes can get us in trouble as we use other objects to ballpark the size of our food.  Maybe this is why overly fancy restaurants are often accused of skimping on food:  they put normal portions on huge plates.  

For myself, I have two observations...

1. Appetizers can be pleasant surprises.  I was recently at a lunch where I was on stage (in fact, being grilled -- pardon the pun) with a bunch of Wall St types.  They were at the lunch to hear about what we were up to, so that meant it was time for me to talk.  As a result, I didn't bother ordering a main dish, but instead I asked for an appetizer serving of tuna tartar.  It was a nice serving size, but was clearly an appetizer.  That said, it did look more impressive on its smaller dish.  Combine this with my having to talk non-stop, and I ended up feeling pretty satisfied after lunch and wasn't hungry again until dinner.  Moral of the story?  Talk more and order smaller sizes.
2. I am not wired for empty plates.  It's the soon-to-be-starving, fight-or-flee caveman that lives inside my stomach that disallows me from doing anything other than cramming food on my plate.  My choice is either to fight this urge or simply to use a smaller plate.  The latter seems much easier than relying on will power.  Moral of the story?  Use salad plates.  

How many of you have reverted to using your grandmother's old china to solve this problem?  What else is working for you?

Cheers,

David