I have a terrible dilemma as a food writer. How do I write about food when I’ve sworn off eating it?

By the time you read this, Thanksgiving will be a distant memory, but as I write, it’s the day after and I’m still digesting turkey. And mashed potatoes. And sweet potatoes, stuffing and cornbread. And of course gravy. And let’s not forget the green beans, cucumbers, beets and two kinds of cranberry sauce. Not to mention the pies (three types, of course). I won’t even bother to enumerate the appetizers.

And that’s just what made it to the table after we physically restrained my sister Judy to prevent her from adding a few more items to the menu. (Have I mentioned she’s an overachiever?)

It’s a good thing her dining table here in Florida is a slab of granite. Anything less would have collapsed under the weight.

If your holiday meal was even half as much of a feast as ours, you can perhaps understand why I don’t plan to eat again in 2008. Or possibly ever.

If the purpose of this holiday is to take one stuffed turkey to the table, and end up with a dozen waddling around the room, ours was a roaring success.

The problem with having this annual family gathering in Florida, however, is that it is warm here. In fact, today is glorious — even I, who profess to hate this state, can find nothing to complain about. (Did you hear that chorus in the background? That’s my family members hooting in disbelief. I have perhaps mentioned my dislike of this venue a time or two too often.)

But along with the glorious weather comes skimpy clothes — ones I had hoped not to face until after the serious diet and exercise program I plan to start next month. Or maybe the month after. Well, definitely by April, anyway.

So here I am sitting by the pool in a too-tight bathing suit. The strained latex and obvious bulges are giving me plentiful reasons to regret last evening’s excesses. I’m vowing “Never again!” I’m not putting anything in my mouth until I can identify real and urgent hunger pangs, or until the Christmas party season starts next week — whichever comes first.

No compulsive trips into the kitchen for leftovers for me today. I’ll leave that to Dad. (For once I can relax, knowing that he is unlikely to poison himself with months-old relics from the back shelf of the fridge.)

As for me, I’m going to sit here (since it would take a crane to get me up) and enjoy a good book.

I’ve been reading an excellent one, “The Fortune Cookie Chronicles” by Jennifer 8. Lee. She traces the development of Chinese restaurants in America, and she has an interesting theory. Based on how frequently most of us eat Chinese food in a year, compared to how often we eat apple pie (or roast turkey), she thinks chow mein and chop suey should be recognized as the true all-American foods.

She has a point. And it’s giving me an idea.

Next year, I’m going to suggest that we change the Thanksgiving menu and do Chinese takeout.

That way, there’s at least a chance that I’ll be hungry again two hours later.

Stir-fried Ginger-Garlic Green Beans

I arrived in Florida with a cold, so I was banned from the kitchen for most of the holiday cooking this year, though they allowed me back in to prepare my two specialties — gravy and green beans. I can’t give you my gravy recipe, because my niece (who loved it) might discover that I tricked her into eating the turkey liver. So green beans it is. It’s probably the easiest dish I know — it hardly merits the term “recipe.” But since I’ve sworn off eating, it’s all you’ll get out of me until my appetite returns.

1 pound fresh green beans, cleaned and trimmed

1 1/2-inch piece fresh ginger, finely grated

4-5 cloves garlic, finely minced or pressed

2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Bring a large pot of water to boil, add salt, and cook the green beans until they are tender but not soft. Drain and plunge the beans immediately into ice water to cool, then drain and set aside.

Heat a sauté pan or wok over medium-high heat, add the olive oil, then the green beans. Stir to coat them with the oil, then add in the ginger and garlic, stirring until they are dispersed throughout the beans. Continue to cook until the beans are warmed through and you can smell the garlic and ginger cooking. If necessary, add a couple tablespoons of water to loosen any bits that stick to the pan.

Salt and pepper generously to taste, then serve.

Serves 4-6.

Betty Teller will return to being a serious foodie as soon as she gets hungry. To talk food or adopt a cat with an extremely healthy appetite, contact her at amuse-bouche@sbcglobal.net.