In the interest of fitting into the clothes I want, I've sworn off pretty much all bread, rice, cakes, sugar, and starches. Which is a problem for me because I grew up Eastern European from a peasant family.
And if there's one thing peasants are good at making - it's bread. I remember when my mother and grandma would slide those fluffy, golden brown oval loaves from the oven and tear it open to reveal the flaky, white carbohydrate holocaust only to slather it with butter.
Witnessing that was probably one of my favorite things in the world, to this day, and I'm married now and have witnessed the birth of two of my children. I'm not saying it's as profound, but it's up there.