The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]

Not the fancy stuff, just classic, everyday comfort shit.

It’s why one of the only ways I was able to get healthy was by ridding myself of all temptation and shut it out my life.

So, no ‘cheeky’ bites.
No ‘super small portions’.
No ‘just a taste’. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

Instead, I replaced my diet with ridiculous amounts of spinach, mushrooms, chicken, fruit and chili flakes. And while that might sound horrific in comparison to what I used to consume, I’ve developed a bunch of different ways to cook it that – along with regular walking/running – has let me lose weight without feeling I am also losing the enjoyment of eating. [or the will to live]

But since losing over 57kgs and maintaining it, I’ve been slowly re-entering normal life … by which, I mean going to the odd restaurant rather than cooking everything myself. And I’ve generally been able to make good choices – without going over-the-top in terms of quantity – however it has also helped me realize that as good as I have been, there are some foods that I am incapable of offering any form of resistance.

If you’d asked me what I thought that food would be when I started this journey, I’d have answered ‘pasta, butter, cheese and salt’ without a moment’s hesitation.

But I was wrong, because if I see that on the menu, I can skip past it without any effort whatsoever.

But bread?
But sausages and mash?
But a fucking banoffee pie?

Nope. Not at all. The moment I see it, my brain shifts …

It starts by screaming ‘DON’T EVEN LOOK AT IT ROB’

Then, within seconds, it starts love bombing me with thoughts like, ‘Maybe you could have a teeny, little bite?’

And almost immediately after, it metaphorically grabs me by the cheeks, looks me right in the eye and tells me, ‘Eat it. You don’t go out often. Put it in your mouth and enjoy it. You’ve earned this. You deserve this’.

And I do.

And yes, I fucking adore it.

And while it’s true I don’t go out to restaurants very often and I am very, very good at all other times, the fact is I do this EVERYTIME I go to a restaurant.

EVERY. TIME.

And here’s the reality …

If I went to a restaurant every day, I’d do it every day. I am helpless to its power.

I love the taste.
I love the texture.
I love the feeling.
I love every single bit of it.

So, whereas I’ve found a healthy, decent alternative to pasta that satisfies my cravings … I haven’t found anything that comes close to that other stuff.

Sure, there’s plenty that claims it … but there’s nothing that comes close.

Which reveals that the biggest challenge with food is not just the taste, but the texture and context … and if the health food companies spent a bit more time on that, maybe more people would feel able to change their life.

But none of that – none of it at all – has anything to do with this post.

Not really. I wrote all that to justify this …

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You see a few weeks ago, I was in the office kitchen when I found that tin of mushy peas.

I have no idea why it was there.

I have no idea how long it was there.

But I do know that if I couldn’t have them on chips and gravy – loaded with salt and vinegar – the next best thing would be to heat them up, put a big dollop of mint sauce all over them and, voila, get transported back to my youth at Nottingham’s Goose Fair where each year, we would eat them out of a stylophone cup and say – semi correctly – we were enjoying a big cup of ‘Culinary Jesus’™.

So I did.