Food for thought

Sunday, 26th February 2006

We continue our healthier eating at home. I have noticed our supermarket bill go up by 30 to 40 per cent. This is due mainly to the increased consumption of organic produce which the books I have read written by nutritionists suggest is best; not all food experts share this view.

Sir John Krebs who until last year was head of the food standards agency (www.foodstandards.gov.uk) was quoted in an article published in The Guardian earlier this week as saying “ My advice would be not to worry too much about the organic [sic] but worry about your kids having more vegetables.” He was also quoted as saying that eating foods with lower salt and fat content is more important than simply increasing purchases of organic produce. This has drawn criticism from the soil association (www.soilassociation.org) who naturally are strong advocates of organic produce. Closer to home the subject of eating organic produce came up in the staff room at the school where Bryan teaches music. The science teacher told him something which I found quite alarming but entirely plausible and it was this: toxins produced by pests crawling inside vegetables are potentially more harmful to humans than pesticide residues. What do we do ? As a consumer I read the case for and against organic food and listen to the arguments; however, the bottom line is that I do not have first-hand evidence so cannot really refute or accept any of the logic. Like so many people I need to make an informed judgement. I must admit, I really like the idea of organic produce, however, the economics are challenging which means I will become more selective but also remain focused on sustaining what has become a vegetable based diet.

The other day Bryan tried out a recipe with tofu as an ingredient. Susannah Olivier and Jane Plant, both respected authors, wax lyrical about the health benefits associated with soya products so we thought we might as well try a tofu dish. Prior to November last year, I would have placed anyone who cooks with tofu in the same category as those who sprout their own vegetables (see entry dated 29.1.06). I took one look at the rubbery, cream coloured cuboid shapes on the plate and knew this would be a meal we would remember for a long time to come. However, Bryan had taken the time and trouble to make the meal from scratch, so I tried the stuff, after all sometimes appearances can deceive. It was not to be on this occasion and, before long I had to resist the urge of throwing the damn things at the French windows, just for the hell of it, to see whether they would stick or wobble down the glass. In the end we ate most of everything else on the plate which included spinach, mushrooms,celery carrots and noodles. The tofu went straight into the bin and has not found its way into our supermarket trolley since.

Later, during the week, Bryan and I concluded that almost two months of healthy eating was all well and good: we have both lost weight and feel a lot better but something was missing. It seemed like an eternity since we had had a leaf-free meal. So on Saturday we tucked into an Indian take away complete with a glass of the mandatory Cobra beer. Afterwards we waddled across to the sofa in the living room to watch the highlights of the four-man bob-sleigh competition at the Winter Olympics. A perfect evening.

As the second cycle of chemotherapy looms on 28th February, I have been busy trying to get the house ready for the lethargy that will make even the simplest of household tasks such as loading the washing machine less attractive than usual. And, let's face it, these things are chores at the best of times. During the last few days the inevitable has finally happened: I have started to lose my hair and am now shedding tufts by the hour. My scalp has felt tingly and ached quite a bit as if I have had long hair tied back in a very tight pony tail for several hours. This prompted a visit to the Lynda Jackson Macmillan centre (www.ljmc.org) based at Mount Vernon hospital. My Macmillan nurse told me about the centre which fortunately is not far from us. The centre, entirely staffed by volunteers, has a stock of head-wear for women who are about to lose their hair. I purchased a number of items: a little blue cap for night-time which Bryan says makes me look like a sperm, a turban for I don't know when but makes me look more like a washer woman (so less like a sperm) and finally a scarf with a tie-back bow which makes me look like an extra from Oklahoma. Unfortunately they didn't have any brown paper bags with a couple of holes at the front that I could put over my head: these were the items I was really hoping to find. Bryan assures me he will make one up for me as soon as I give him the go-ahead.

When I got back home I started to prepare for the arrival of the boys from school. Bryan has an endearing habit of taking off his tie the moment he gets in, rolling it up, and leaving it wherever he finds an empty space on a shelf, window ledge or on top of the coat cupboard in the hall. I usually collect all these 'roll ups' during the course of the week and hang up the ties on the tie rack in his wardrobe. But last week I snapped: “Can't you put your own ties away for change?” To which he replied: “All right, keep your hair on.”