Sophie Moeller watches her waistline

Intermittent fasting, drinking vinegar and eating chocolate that tastes like cardboard are the realities of staying healthy in middle age, writes Sophie Moeller

ILOOKED down at my sticky black rice, bean sprouts, pickled enoki, carrot kale, rhubarb kimchi and poached egg and, I’m not going to lie, thought, this is the last thing I feel like for breakfast. Out of the corner of my eye, the French toast with South Coast maple syrup and crunchy bacon was screaming at me from the next table.

But I had a big 50th party to go to in a few weeks and the kind of food choices I was making, were kimchi kind of choices. It was Kate Moss and her famous throwaway line “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”, that was winning the toss in my mind. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t scoffing at the wonderful gut-producing bacteria, B and C vitamin energy and beta-keratine infused glow that was coming my way. Any bonus was worth the orgasmic sacrifice of salt and sweet that was being experienced beside me. It’s just that such worthiness, at that moment, was entirely secondary to the low-calorific benefits offered by my ‘Bibi’ tick bowl.

There were parts of the multi-coloured melange, I quite liked. The poached egg cooked-just-right was pretty yum, and so were the soft fermented little fungi, but the fried carrot kale tasted of, well, dried crispy kale. And, while I enjoyed the texture of sticky black rice, no amount of soy was going cut through its sea-weedy wateriness. Soft, melt-in-your-mouth, caramelised bread dipped in egg and fried in butter, it was not.

The big day came and, as I glided between the tables in my new party dress, I gave myself permission to enjoy. Given time and circumstance, I was looking and feeling as good as it gets. Even my spanx had a looseness to them.

But, as the third course was served, I heard American newspaper columnist Erma Bombeck speaking to me through the din: “Seize the moment. Remember all those women on the Titanic who waved off the dessert cart.”

In I went for seconds.

Within a week I was back in the upper register of my weight range. Same deal, six weeks to it get off, six days to put it back on.

I really do envy those people who have no need for sugar, bread, pasta and cheese. How easy it must be for them. Then again, there’s nothing constant in life and, as a consequence, there is nothing constant about our waistlines. There are, however, truisms.

One of which is: middle age, means middle fat. Even Louis Theroux has thickened-out post 40, for Pete’s sake. I’ve come to realise, to stay healthy as you get older, is to eat not much at all. It is also means having your haircut more frequently and wearing clothes that are cut well. We may have earned the right to relax on many levels but, the reality around food actually involves intermittent fasting, drinking vinegar and eating chocolate that tastes like cardboard.

This week though, I’m cutting myself some slack. I’m going with Orson

Welles: “Everything in moderation, including moderation.”

Then again, there’s nothing in the calendar to compel me to think otherwise.

“THERE’S NOTHING CONSTANT IN LIFE AND, AS A CONSEQUENCE, THERE IS NOTHING CONSTANT ABOUT OUR WAISTLINES.”