OFF THE MENU

A new year = a new food obsession. As January approaches, barely a day goes by without another weird way of eating popping up. Raw chia and goji delight, anyone?

Do you know your vague-an from your sexi-flexi? Thanks to our guide, you will soon…

Do you know your Paleo from your keto? Is half your office dabbling in Whole3O 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 specific about what we eat – or at least know people who are. In the US in 2O17, the percentage of adults following a specific diet protocol more than doubled, from 14 per cent to 36 per cent*.

It’s good to take an interest in your health and wellbeing, of course. We are what we eat etc – and when the pace of life is fast, and choice is infinite, it can feel time-efficient to pick a diet that fits your needs and preferences. And if it increases your energy and wellbeing? So much the better. But at this time of year in particular, barely a week will pass 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 Tesco, or even been tempted to try ‘kangatarianism’ (I advise you to watch Australian Love Island 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 just great 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 and fasting fanatics, here are the ones to look out for.

the VAGUAN

That’s vague vegan, don’t you 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 vegetarian 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 hung over), they are 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 the concepts of Sheese, Teese, Cheezly, No-Moo and Vegerella. OK, so 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

“FOR the FERMENTATION FUNDAMENTALIST, GUT is GOD; THEY WOULD FERMENT FISH

and CHIPS IF THEY COULD”

latte and nearly hurled; ditto the soy-milk latte, almond-milk latte, ricemilk latte, hemp-milk latte and even the latte made with Oatly, which is dairy-, nut-, gluten-, soy- and GMO-free. It’s estimated there are now 3.5 million vegans in the UK. Can they really all be downing bad coffee? Maybe there’s another way. If flexitarianism is a thing (see below), why can’t a similarly bendy approach be applied to veganism? They’ll swap Wotsits for Hippeas, and sacrifice Häagen-Dazs for a tub of raw chia and goji delight. But please don’t make them give up cow’s milk. Where you’ll find them: at their local vegan meet-up, discussing the merits

of The Chickpea Revolution v The Modern Cook’s Year.

Do say: ‘Stella’s done some great vegetarian-leather bags for spring.’

Don’t say: ‘Did you know 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 macrobiotic balance of their gastrointestinal tract. At brunch with friends (pancakes? Are you mad?), they can talk of little else than their own scatology, the best position in which to poo, and how much better they feel since swapping Kingsmill for chia teff loaf from The Happy Tummy Co. 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 Fermentation For Dummies and started homeproducing their own kimchi. No matter that their flat 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 consider chocolate ‘a treat’, as opposed to an evil substance that is 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.

Where you’ll find them: drinking Yeastus Christ SuperSour, a craft beer made in small batches, featuring a threeaddition hop schedule and five different types of alpha acids. Do say: ‘There’s a BOGOF on sauerkraut at Lidl.’

Don’t say: ‘Did you just fart?’

the SUPER-SEXY

FLEXI

At least, they think they’re sexy. How could they be anything but? Their bodies are temples into which only the finest, most rarefied, GM-free and organic products must ever be placed. And since they take more care than their heroine Gwyneth over what goes into these temples, 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 Sexy Flexi’s somewhat fickle approach can occasionally become irksome. Cooking for them is difficult, to say the least. They claim to eat fish, but the only fish they ever seem to have is Dover sole. Have they seen the price of Dover sole these days? And what about meat? Do they eat meat, or don’t they? 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 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 crayfish are ‘bottom feeders’ while we’re in the middle of our favourite Pret crayfish and avo salad?

Where you’ll find them: browsing the Daylesford Organic website.

Do say: ‘If that fish were any fresher, you’d have to slap it.’

Don’t say: ‘Did you know your mango has travelled 4,662 miles?’

the FAST AND FURIOUS

‘You and I are gonna live forever!’ sang Liam Gallagher in 1994, while largely subsisting on a diet of beer, fags and Class As. 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 limiting yourself to 5OO calories two days a week. Millions of people claim it works, and that’s just fine. Unless they’re a Type A personality. In which case, intermittent fasting is like a red flag to a bull: 5OO calories? Pah. They can do 25O. Actually, 1OO. 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 spaced-out, foul-tempered techies wandering around in black hoodies 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 they were telling you about the recycling caddy. And always, always hide the biscuits – otherwise, it will be your fault if they eat a Hobnot 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.

Where you’ll find them: in Waitrose, looking for the Miracle Noodles. Do say: ‘Thanks, I’d love more cauliflower rice.’

Don’t say: ‘I could murder a korma.’