We’re always being told how we should watch what we eat, get our five a day, drink however many gallons of water it is per day to keep us healthy but do you know what? I’m getting bored of it now.
I’m getting bored of TV shows where a homunculus shrew examines human waste and tells it’s creator that they need more red in their diet. Bored of mockney barrow boys telling me a diet of turkey gizzards and connective tissue isn’t as good for me as his free range, tee total, massaged daily, tofu eating piglets. Bored of being shown how much fat, sugar and salt my food contains in graphics involving packets of lard and teaspoons. I understand grams and kilograms. I know that ten grams of salt can prove toxic. I don’t know how much that is in teaspoons.
I’m not stupid you see, believe it or not I knew that the key to maintaining a healthy weight meant expending as many calories through exercise as consumed through food. I understand, as have most cultures since pre-Neanderthal man, about the need to cook food properly and eat a sensible balance of food groups. I also know that a baby will select these groups instinctively until it is taught bad food habits by its parents.
Guess what? I eat reasonably healthily for most of the time but once every few weeks I like to satisfy my primal urge to consume protein, fat, salt and sugar. As a human these products create a hormonal and sensory reaction which I, like any other omnivorous primate, would. When I fancy a hit of the good stuff I like to hit the Indian takeaway or maybe buy in some Chinese food. If you fancy a Nottingham takeaway, have one, it won’t kill you. Sometimes you don’t even have to leave your house. I know! Birmingham food delivery means that you don’t even get the exercise of walking to the restaurant!
And do you know what? Because I’m a reasonable man, so reasonable that I could even be that man who appears on the Clapham Omnibus, I don’t eat fast food every day. It’s not a staple, it’s a convenient treat. It enriches our culture and reinforces cultural exchange. Can’t say that for pan seared angel pelts or whatever other aspirational what-nots the latest supermarket endorsing celebrity chef flavour of the month is trying to sell you now, can you?