At the other extreme lie the clueless affluent classes But the diet industry requires a simple message that can be sold to the gullible The press must be enlisted to support it. How else to account for the huge popularity of the Atkins diet, and of its predecessors (high-carb, food-combining and so forth)? The purpose of these diets is not to educate. Anyone with any sense knows that eating less, but getting enough of what you need from all food groups, is the best way to lose weight while maintaining or improving your health. Low-fat, of course.The diet industry does nothing to enlighten consumers because it isn't in their interest to enlighten. And then they will sit down to lunch of industrial sausages made from mechanically recovered meat. Where unfettered development of out-of-town shopping has killed off small, specialist shops with (sometimes) knowledgeable staff - and indeed, threatens to kill off many thriving towns, villages and city centres which once would have supported a handful of butchers, greengrocers and independent bakeries.This deliberate policy has enabled the 4x4-driving affluentsia to get the week's food shopping done in a single trip, buying overpriced inferiority from the nearest supermarket, so they can go cycling with their children - a "healthy" activity. Where the Government urges impoverished inner-city parents to feed their children well while making sure their shopping opportunities are restricted to the highest-priced, lowest-quality food stores. A reed-thin girl told one of my daughters that her mother never let her eat crisps for fear that she would get fat.Why should anyone be surprised that so many Britons are so clueless about food? We live in a country where it's considered acceptable to budget 31p to feed a child lunch at school. Where the school "food technology" curriculum regards a "pizza" made from a baguette and ready-made toppings as "cooking". Many have to choose between keeping the house warm and feeding themselves and their families. There's something to play with when it comes to food: live on the sliced white loaves reaching their BBE (best before end) date at the local supermarket There is no such leeway in heating fuel. Which one will win?And another question: how many affluent children are undernourished, semi-starved by mothers who, obsessed with keeping their own figures trim, frown on any sign of enthusiasm for eating that their daughters might display? In our food-disturbed country, many people regard food first and foremost as a danger zone when they ought to teach their children to learn how to eat with sensible pleasure.
Forty per cent of Britons will be obese within a single generation? Why shouldn't they be, when they're trained from an early age to demand processed foods loaded with sugar, fat or salt? These are the foods consistently presented, in advertising and elsewhere, as the self-indulgent treats we all crave.The other side of the picture, the shocking prediction that two million Britons suffer from malnutrition, is similarly unsurprising. They know that too much fat is bad (true), so they banish all fat from the family diet - a fatal gastronomic error which eliminates good flavour from their children's food. They spend £20,000 on a new Range Rover Freelander and £5,000 on two weeks in Tuscany, but wouldn't dream of paying £10 for a free-range chicken when they can get a tasteless industrial bird from the supermarket for £5. They give their children dinner money without imposing rules on how it's spent at the school canteen, where I know of teenagers who "lunch" on Kit Kats and a Coke. They feed them a takeaway pizza for dinner with no vegetables, and don't bat an eyelid when none of the "meal" is eaten before the sweets come out.Against this background of ignorance, wilful or otherwise, no one should be surprised at the shocking revela- tions about the nation's collective waistline - revelations that seem to pour forth on an almost daily basis. These people have the education to know better, yet they feed their children (and sometimes themselves) appalling rubbish. One of the children is still sucking up a drink of something from McDonald's through a straw.At the other extreme lie the clueless affluent classes. They're standing in front of me in the queue, and I look through their shopping basket as they unload it on to the conveyor belt: two bags of chicken nuggets, fishfingers, two large bottles of Coke, a big bag of crisps, oven chip, chocolate bars Not a single fresh product, even a lemon or a bag of apples. I'm talking about the affluent, many of whom know nothing and care less about feeding themselves and their children a wholesome, balanced and adventurous diet. They're happy to go to the latest trendy restaurant, but they don't find time in their important, busy lives to cook for their children; to invite them to cook and learn about food; to engage them in the long, gradual process of discover- ing the glorious pleasures that come from good eating.There are two extremes in the UK's generalised food poverty. At one end is the low-income family doing its weekly shop in a run-of-the-mill supermarket. Some supermarkets are realising consumers want better quality and are willing to pay for it Dining out has improved immeasurably But for many of us, food has never been worse And those who are the worst off don't even know it. |
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