For every July 14, there is a July 15th, when celebrants must wipe the blood (or vomit) off of their faces and go back to holding their revolutionary (or hedonistic) urges in check.

So I’ve been 97% devout with my Caveman diet for the past 4-5 weeks, with minor slip-ups involving sugar-laden salad dressings and marinades, as well as some intentional stray glasses of wine, and a pumpernickel and mayo sandwich consumed during a 13-mile hike.

According to Fitday, my typical daily Caveman diet of meat, poultry, fish, nuts, eggs, veggies, and some fruit is roughly 2200 calories — 15% carbs, 25% protein, and 60% fat (10% saturated, 22% Polyunsaturated, 23% monounsaturated). I eat around 33 grams of dietary fiber and 125 grams of protein. All of my RDA% for vitamins and minerals are well above 100% except for calcium (50%, and even though I supplement with calcium pills, I’ll argue that the recommended 1000 mg is wholly unnecessary). 5 of my RDA% are above 300% (selenium, copper, phosphorus, vitamin E, and vitamin c). My skin has cleared up a bit, my digestive system is hummin’, I sleep well, I feel a general sense of well-being, and I’ve lost 6 pounds… in 4-5 weeks, while eating 2200 calories a day! Take that, grapefruit diet.

Given these results, I’m very keen on the Caveman diet and prepared to make it my diet for life, with some periodic indulging on forbidden foods on special occasions, because even if these foods are not good for my health and I can survive without them… they still taste mighty good.

Last night was my first indulgence. We had dinner at the Liberty Hotel prior to their huge Bastille Day celebration. After we ordered the special French prix fixe menu, the waiter put a tray of white bread on the table. White bread. White as a ghost. I slathered it with a bit of butter and took a bite. Bliss. Our salads came. Nothing forbidden in the salad, but more bread and butter was consumed. And wine. Main course: A plate of handmade buttered pasta drowned in red wine sauce. Heavens. By the time I finished, I could feel a precipitous surge of blood sugar.  But, it’s time for the cheese course. Tomme, chevre, and a piquant bleu, smeared on thin toast with baked-in figs. More wine.

When I woke up this morning at 6am, well, I don’t know if it was the refined carbs, the 2-3 glasses of alcohol, or the fact that we partied at the Liberty Hotel until midnight, but I felt like crap. All day long, my head ached, my body was tired, and my stomach threatened a little revolution of its own. Was it worth it? For bread, pasta, cheese and wine… yes. Yes, it was.