Lee Randall: Healthy eating is all in the mind

Published on Tuesday 27 October 2009 17:57

ALTHOUGH I didn't overhear it, reliable sources report that when my birthday cake appeared, a fiesta guest felt compelled to announce that the coffee-walnut confection was high in calories and part of nobody's weight loss plan.

That, beloved guest, whoever you were, is the point of cake. It's a treat.

Anyway, by the time I sliced it in half, then spun it round to slice perpendicular to the diameter to glean the most possible servings (to the clear horror of its baker), we were talking slivers. I doubt anyone's scales registered a shocking spike the following morning.

Yes, of course I ate some – a bit from the end, to ensure maximum icing. You don't specially commission a non-chocolate birthday cake to look at, for goodness' sake! (This despite the aggravating half a stone I'm battling to whittle back off. To compensate, I drank "gin-n-slim", and not many, to keep calories at bay and my head from exploding.)

This business of the food police giving my cake a citation came to mind while reading about Britain's obesity epidemic – which amuses me inappropriately, I must admit. At last, after a decade of anti-American swipes during Bush's reign of terror, you can no longer point to the US as land of the free and home of the blimps since it's an apt description of the UK, as well.

There was a case study: a young woman who'd lost six stone by having gastric surgery. She knew all along her health was at risk, but, she wailed, "The issue is that the wrong food is everywhere. Supermarkets bombard you with rubbish … (they] will deliver unhealthy foods to your door."

Fair enough, dearie, but they'll just as swiftly deliver apples, broccoli and cabbage if you only ask.

Having said that, I do take her point. Because I sometimes have groceries delivered from Tesco, I'm in their system. That means I get regular e-mails tempting me with vast savings on hundreds of products. But when I click on the link to shop, hoping to save squillions, my trawl through their special offers inevitably reveals that in the main, the deepest discounts are offered on ready meals, snack foods, packaged and canned goods, fizzy drinks and alcohol.

Of course there are always discounts on fresh fish, meat and so on, but they're in the minority. And you can't over-buy fresh produce or it winds up in the bin.

Apart from canned tuna and the odd bean, I buy fresh and have no truck with prepared meals (that's what restaurants are for, surely?). So, regardless of what's on offer, my bill is invariably the same.

Spoilage aside, the great disadvantage of fresh food is having to think about it.

I don't say that to denigrate consumers. It is precisely why I despise supermarkets. Not only are they so often aesthetically unappealing (with food displays surely designed by aversion therapists), but my indecisive nature cannot cope with the options.

Despite being able to cook and owning many books filled with recipes, when I hit those aisles I'm struck stupid, unable to fathom how one melds their myriad ingredients into a meal or what goes with what.

I don't spot a pumpkin and think "five ways with". I think, "Tasty and healthy, yeah, but god are those babies hard to hack apart to cook!"

Don't even mention menu planning. How am I supposed to know on Sunday what I'll fancy on Thursday?

Plus, living on my lonesome with nothing but poor impulse control as a dining companion, bulk cooking is risky. If, for instance, I made a lasagne and didn't muscle most of it into the freezer asap, I'd eat the whole lasagne – as if the baking dish equalled one serving.

It's equally true that when you're on the run, fresh options are limited and largely unappealing. (Ever bought a newsagent's apple? Me neither.) Retailers aren't to blame: the post office sells sweets because they've no place to store or display fresh berries. The answer is to brown bag it. Which, brings us back to the supermarket. Rats.