NO TOUCHING, PLEASE...

There are very few robust figures for the number of people with brumotactillophobia.

To you and me that’s the fear of food touching on the plate.

It’s a form of OCD. If you’re someone who hates the beans touching the rest of the breakfast. Or maybe the gravy getting near the Yorkshire pudding, then you may be a mild sufferer.

I live with someone with the condition. On a good day, they’ll deconstruct a lasagne and reduce it back to its, mince, pasta and sauce components. It’s fascinating to watch.

Many people have food rules and when with people they trust, feel released to fully be themselves. Another friend, when being served dinner, asks his partner to construct the plate to avoid unnecessary contamination. He’ll ask for the chips to provide a dam to prevent the peas from crossing the line.

If you think about it, we all have entry-level symptoms. I am not a fan of soggy toast underneath baked beans. I don’t like water from poached eggs getting on my plate and if my takeaway curry is cold, I burst into tears and have to have an early night.

There are hundreds more examples on the internet. Some people hate ‘toast sweat’, the condensation when it’s put flat on a plate. Some folk will eat one food group at a time. Whatever your neurosis; food, heights, spiders, great white sharks, people always cope better when surrounded by others who accept them. I always tell my children: ‘I accept you as you are,’ and do all my judging in my head. That’s a condition known as ‘Being a Parent’.