MAKING A MEAL OF IT
EVERY DAY ANOTHER FOOD PHILOSOPHY MAKES HEADLINES. HERE’S HOW TO NAVIGATE THE NEW DIETARY SUBCULTURES
Meet the new diet tribes: from flexis to vaguans.
DO YOU KNOW YOUR PALEO FROM YOUR KETO? Is half your office dabbling in Whole30 and experimenting with DASH? Know someone who was doing high-protein, but it made them a tad windy so they changed to gluten-free? You’re not alone. Call it fear of sugar/fear of love handles/fear of early-onset diabetes/fear of your lunch looking basic on Insta – whatever the reason, most of us are becoming far more picky about what we eat – or at least know people who are.
It’s good to take an interest in your health and wellbeing, of course. We are what we eat, et cetera – and when the pace of life is fast, and choice is infinite, it’s efficient to pick foods that fit your needs and preferences. And if it increases your energy and wellbeing? Even better. These days, however, barely a week passes without another rule-laden, uber-restrictive diet hitting the news. Just as it seems the world and its great aunt have sworn allegiance to team gluten-free, stockpiled bloody beetroot burgers from Woolworths, or even been tempted to try “kangatarianism” (watch Love Island re-runs if you’d like to know more), along comes another group with its mad-ass rules.
There will always be some people who can’t help taking things to extremes. And those people can be difficult to be with – never mind go out to dinner with. The only way to get through it? Ignore the noise – you’re great just the way you are – and enjoy spotting the new foodie breeds as they appear around you. From the vague vegans (hello, vaguans) to the sexy-flexis, here are the ones to look out for.
THE SUPER-SEXY FLEXI
At least, they think they’re sexy – and their bodies are temples into which only the most fine, organic and Gm-free products must ever be placed – so how could they be anything but? And since they take more care with what goes into these temples than their heroine Gwyneth, it stands to reason that they must, therefore, be glowing with health, vibrancy, vigour and sex appeal. While it goes without saying that it’s fine to revile meat if you’re a vegan or a vegetarian, to their friends, partners and families, the flexitarian’s somewhat fickle approach can be irksome. Cooking for them is difficult: they claim to eat fish, but only wild-caught sardines. And do they eat meat or not? Nobody really knows. While few people would lick their lips at the prospect of a hot dog from a street vendor at a dodgy funfair, surely it’s a bit much, on encountering a perfectly decent-looking sausage, to ask about the provenance of the pig. In the restaurant of life, tolerance is the be-all and end-all – so we’re very happy you’ve found a way of eating that works for you. Just one small request: could you please stop pointing out that crustaceans are “bottom feeders” while we’re in the middle of our favourite crayfish and avo salad? YOU’LL FIND THEM: Browsing organic food websites. DO SAY: “If that fish were any fresher, you’d have to slap it.” DON’T SAY: “FYI, your mango travelled 4,662 kilometres.”
THE VAGUAN
That’s vague vegan, if you didn’t know. Way before Veganuary, they were considering whether to go vegan – ever since they watched Cowspiracy and realised Beyoncé was already living a plant-based life. Fully veggie apart from that tiny slice of turkey on Christmas Day (oh, and the bacon sandwich on January 1st, but that doesn’t count because they were hungover), they’re now ready to ditch the dairy. Sure, it’ll be tough foregoing buffalo mozzarella, but they’ve done their research and are fully on board with Bio Cheese. There’s also the small matter of hating chickpeas, but not everything vegan is made from chickpeas… is it? Besides, if they smother enough Hellmann’s on their falafel wrap, they’ll barely taste the falafel. Wait. Is Hellmann’s vegan? Can vegans eat eggs? What about home-farmed eggs? And – oh God – what about coffee? They once tried a coconut-milk latte and nearly hurled; ditto lattes made with soy, almond, rice, hemp or oat milk. Reports suggest the number of vegans in Australia is at an all-time high. Can they really all be downing bad coffee? If flexitarianism is a thing, why can’t a similarly bendy approach be applied to veganism? They’ll swap cheese Twisties for roasted chickpea puffs. But please don’t make them give up cow’s milk. YOU’LL FIND THEM: At a vegan meet-up, debating The
Chickpea Revolution versus The Modern Cook’s Year. DO SAY: “Stella’s done great veggie-leather bags for spring.” DON’T SAY: “It takes five litres of water to grow one almond.”
THE FERMENTATION FUNDAMENTALIST
Ever since Lars bought them Gut by Giulia Enders for Christmas, they’ve been obsessed with the delicate balance of their gastrointestinal tract. At brunch with friends (pancakes? Are you mad?), they can talk of little other than their own scatology, the best position in which to poo, and how much better they feel since swapping Sonoma Bakery for chia teff loaf. They ostentatiously sprinkle teff seeds over every meal – it’s an Ethiopian supergrain, don’t you know. But things really ramped up – or rather, started stinking – when they bought themselves Fermenting For Dummies and started making kimchi. No matter that their apartment reeks of dead cats and pickled eggs: if their housemates don’t like it, they can go live with the unenlightened sugar freaks who still drink prosecco and eat chocolate (aka: evil substances that are slowly killing them). For the FF, gut is God; they would ferment fish and chips if they could, but as it is, they’ll have to content themselves with cabbage, tempeh and kombucha. YOU’LL FIND THEM: Drinking Sour Cherry Funk, a malty red ale fermented in-barrel with a blend of three brettanomyces strains and lactic acid bacteria. DO SAY: “There’s a BOGOF on sauerkraut at Harris Farm.” DON’T SAY: “Did you just fart?”
THE FAST AND FURIOUS
“You and I are gonna live forever!” sang Liam Gallagher in 1994, while subsisting on a diet of beer, cigarettes and recreational drugs. Pfft. If you want to achieve immortality, Liam, there’s only one way to do it, and that’s by intermittent fasting. It would be another 18 years until the 5:2 came along, Michael Mosley’s revolutionary calorie-restricting diet that advocated a 500-calorie limit two days a week. Millions of people claim it works. Unless they’re a Type A personality. In which case, intermittent fasting is like a red flag to a bull: 500 calories? Pah. They can do 250. Actually, 100. Actually, none. It’s no surprise, then, that intermittent fasting is freakishly popular in Silicon Valley, which should be renamed Grumpy Valley due to the number of foul-tempered techies wandering around with perilously low blood sugar. Anyone who has lived with an intermittent faster learns to adopt special survival techniques. Never tell them they look tired. Never tell them they have lost the thread of the story. And always, always hide the biscuits – otherwise, it will be your fault if they eat one on a fasting day. Actually, most things are your fault – their tiredness, their short-term memory loss, their mood swings. Nothing to do with the fact they only ate a carrot all day. Oh, no. YOU’LL FIND THEM: In a supermarket, looking for the Miracle Noodles. DO SAY: “Thanks, I’d love more cauliflower rice.” DON’T SAY: “I could murder a korma.”