The pinch of salt diet

Max Pemberton bemoans the myths about healthy eating that have condemned him to years of nasty meals

I’M not happy. Last week I discovered I’ve been wasting my time every Sunday for most of my adult life. I refer to my weekly meal of mackerel, which I force myself to eat despite the repulsive taste and texture. Not only do I hate the slimy fish, but twice I’ve nearly died (or at least it felt that way) when a bone has stuck in my throat.

So new guidance published by Britain’s National Institute for Health and Care Excellence suggesting that the impact of an oily-fish diet in preventing heart attacks or strokes “could be minimal” is far from welcome. Minimal? I’ve been missing out on a lovely, wholesome fry-up for a decade or more because I, and millions of others, believed that oily fish was key to health and longevity.

Like any good psychiatrist, I blame my mother. When I was a child, she bought a book called Superfoods and, in her determination to guarantee my sister and I would live long enough to look after her in her old age, it became her bible. Each time we found an unusual or exotic foodstuff on our plate, she would take great pleasure in informing us it was a “superfood” and would help ward off diabetes or cancer or evil or whatever it was she’d read about.

We all know that certain foods are better for us than others, but the idea that some possess almost mystical properties is very seductive. Suppliers and manufacturers exploit a belief in some elixir of health and market, and price accordingly, or promote in various ingenious ways even more “super” versions of superfoods.

Despite six years at medical school and well-developed cynicism when it comes to food fadism, I admit I have bought into the superfoods phenomenon. In addition to oily fish, I make sure I consume pomegranates, blueberries, kiwi fruit, broccoli and brazil nuts regularly, even though I know that if it’s not deep-fried, coated in lard or caked with sugar, pretty much any vegetable or fruit is good for you.

In 2011, the NHS looked at these wonder foods and examined some of the claims made for them. The findings were critical not just of the media’s sensationalist reporting of the research, but also of the research itself. They pointed out that the plethora of contradictory reports was such that “often the same food is declared healthy one day and harmful the next”. (I’m still not sure if red wine and chocolate will save my life or kill me.)

One problem is researchers often use surrogate end points, in which the studies measure outcomes not directly related to people’s health. One widely reported study that claimed that eating oily fish could improve people’s memory compared changes in the blood flow to the brain in those who ate the fish and those who did not — but it didn’t actually test memory, which is the only way to say for sure that oily fish bestows that benefit.

There are other factors that can affect the reliability of research, such as bias and conflicts of interest over who funds the study and what they want from it. In short, few claims that a food has a miracle benefit live up to scrutiny. So my advice is this: ensure you have a balanced, sensible diet and don’t eat too much sugar, salt or fat. That’s pretty much it. While it might be tempting to believe in miracles, the reality is more prosaic.

The good news is that for the first time in years, I can look forward to a decent Sunday brunch. — © The Daily Telegraph