Pioppi-cock

We're on a health and weight-loss kick at the moment, Sternest Critic wanting to get fit and ready for his summer sojourn diving in Gozo. Inevitably that has meant reading up on the subject, in my case focusing on two books in particular: The Pioppi Diet; and The Clever Gut Diet.


Michael Moseley, as ever, is readable and makes some very good sense in the second of those two volumes, though there was not much really sparkling new in there for anyone who has watched Trust Me I'm a Doctor, or read other recent books by him. He has the advantage of being amusing, and educational, and it at worst reinforced some ideas.


The Pioppi Diet, however, was a let down. Again the science stuff - rather dryly presented - was not exactly new - a very long-winded way to say stay off white carbs, intermittent fasting is a neat trick, and olive oil and intensive exercise are good for you. But along with a tendency in both writers to self-aggrandisement there was something that got my goat about the premise, which is that if we all follow the diet and lifestyle of a particular Italian village we'll all be better off. Fine, the stats show these peasants live longer, are fitter, etc etc. Then they put forward on the food side of the equation a lot of stuff like yoghourt, coconut oil and turmeric that would be alien to those particular Italians. And the thing that really annoyed was sweeping aside the totally demonised pasta - something I'm willing to bet Guiseppe and his mates live(d) on pretty much daily - as only eaten as a starter in small portions so we'll sort of ignore it.


Every such book I read does provide some useful insights, and The Pioppi Diet is no exception - I've cut back for all of us even more than before on white carbs, replaced largely with more fruit and veg and lots of high quality olive oil (so a tweak rather than a revolution), but I'm basically back to my own simple philosophy of diversity in fruit and veg and protein sources, and above all enjoy my food - the recipe stuff in The Pioppi Diet largely sounds like fuel and a penance. I'm pretty bloody sure one of the things that made or makes the people of that village live longer will be taking great pleasure in eating and drinking. And scarfing spoonfuls of raw cacao powder with cinnamon doesn't seem like the sort of thing they would even dream of doing. I'm not about to either.

Intravenous Pies

Two months ago we started on what was euphemistically dubbed our Alternative Eating Programme, having determined en famille that we all needed to lose a few kilos.

There were in my case numerous reasons to think it necessary to do so - in no particular order: 

1. Some Type 2 Diabetes in the family history; 
2. My father, whom I resemble in many ways, is nowadays significantly overweight, and I have started to think about such long-term health issues; 
3. I was developing a belly that same father told me once begun could never be lost;
4. A friend, a year younger than I, died suddenly last year;
5. We are heading for the Indian Ocean this summer: surfer shorts with beer-gut  - not a good look.

I read around the subject, and it made sense to follow GI dietary guidelines, i.e. reduce fats and oils in cooking, go big on fresh fruits and veg (with exceptions - no dates, no big loss, beetroot and broad beans, more of a blow); all starches to be wholemeal; no frying unless unavoidable; grill meats. Add to that the use of plenty of chilli (it supposedly speeds the metabolism); plus zero-fat yogurts (calcium helps bind fats and rushes them through the system).

We have eaten really well since this began: no missed meals, Friday still brings plebean (alternative spelling to irritate Ms B) steak night, puddings aplenty (but fruit-based). In austerity terms it has cost more (though had we been doing this between June and September it would have been far cheaper, our allotment and garden providing masses of F&V then). I felt a bit hungry on two occasions at the day's end, but otherwise no lethargy (important given SC is entering exam period) in fact quite the opposite, no stomach complaints, nothing much to report. We feel reasonably full, our diet is balanced and varied, calorific intake probably a couple of hundred below the norm (if there is such a thing). But the weight has dropped off.

Actually I have overshot my target and am considering using pies intravenously to rebalance things. 

Apparently women do reduce more slowly than men, but The Dear Leader - less in need than her subjects - has likewise clearly slimmed down (for reasons of state security her weight is kept secret from us). Which all makes me wonder: how come slimming is such a massive industry? Is it a similar thing to processed foods - there because so many are incapable of doing the work themselves?

End of the Summer that Never Was

It is cold and nasty outside, the last day of a September every bit as wet and wild as 2012's summer that never was.

In spite of the vile weather that began in June and has barely let up since, we did grow plenty on our allotment and in the garden. As ever, though, I failed with tomatoes, with only a few reaching ripeness. Today I gave up hoping that the remaining green ones would even manage a blush of pink, so I picked the lot - lot being about 20 marble-sized fruits - and made them into a salsa.

As anyone who has read other posts here will know one of my favourite cooking verbs is 'to zap'. These enjoyed that treatment, along with some of our own coriander seeds, a red chilli seeds-and-all, some parsley,  and salt and pepper. Very very hot, unlike the weather.

That salsa (with some yogurt, it really is damned hot) will coat chicken breasts for baking tonight, to be served with a spinach salad to help the cooling process and offer some green defiance to the unkind elements.