The Feelgood Factor

There is something strangely addictive about rubbish food. Since changing careers I've spent less time driving around the country (and the continent), and eat far less manufactured pappy crappy food. In fact our diet is extremely healthy. Yet still I can be tempted by what I know in advance will be, say, a tasteless and hugely over-priced sausage roll (I ate one at lunchtime yesterday on what proved to be a painfully long car journey).


For a minute, however, it's enjoyable. Same with chocolate and sweets. But the sugar or salt or fat rush is inevitably followed by a down. A down that I know is coming.


By way of contrast, the fruit- and vegetable-rich regime we enjoy - and enjoy is the word - normally does not give that very brief intense high, but makes me feel good through the day. It's even more noticeable the morning after on the rare occasions when I'm too tired to cook, and so buy us a takeaway. Next day I feel hungover, regardless of whether I had anything to drink with the meal or no. Too much salt, too much saturated fat, and heavens know what additives and preservatives.


I'm reminded of something I read years ago about a simple test that predicted a child's future success: put a sweet on the table in front of them, and say they can eat it now, or if they leave it for five minutes you'll give them another so they can scoff two. Bright kids (who followed up later in life had bright futures) waited. But too many of us can't control our impulses, and our need for instant gratification. People still smoke, knowing how bad it is for them. I still enjoy a drink - at a level that even ten years ago would have been thought abstemious, but that now is more than doctors recommend (I read recently that just seven units a week is considered alcohol abuse by some health professionals now).


Maybe it is growing maturity - about time some may say - but my drift is towards the longer-term feelgood factor. One major problem remains - jelly sweets. I have asked The Dear Leader to keep me away from them, and them from me. But I will miss them.

Dry January

As mentioned previously, we have decided albeit belatedly (started on the 5th) to do the dry January thing. For those who knew me in undergraduate times, I hope it helps both my livers (I still think one is a bad design fault). Happily no shakes, nightmare visions (beyond wife with foul coughing disease) or desire to sneak a quick one while nobody is looking.

In austerity terms it is a positive, as expenditure on alcohol is not strictly necessary. OK, not at all necessary. Maybe we'll put some coins in the Sealed Pot (see my other blog for explanation) to acknowledge that. But as regards our eating it makes a difference to the pleasure of the evening meal gathering. Wines and beers bring something extra to the taste of food, if chosen correctly they bring out the best in a dish; and I can't say that really about what we have substituted for them: ginger beer (no alcohol type) was refreshing, but overpowered what was on the plate; last night's lime cordial (Rose's - I look forward to making a Gimlet in February) with soda again slaked the thirst, but would not be my first choice to go with a beef and mushroom pie. Sainsbury's bitter lemon on another occasion was unpleasant.