A woman once vibrant, full of fun, witty, daring, and super-fit, until…
In the 1960s when nutritionists began to take centre stage in the nutrition debate, a whole food section became a narrative of fear, a fear that only grew, and grew exponentially over the years.
If you wanted to be really healthy you were advised to give up the staples our ancestors had traditionally adhered to.
Dairy products, cream, butter and cheese, eggs and meat, were vilified, food to avoid…if you wanted to stay alive.
And the narrative was eagerly embraced.
Fats were demonized…because of you know…your cholesterol…and your heart…and while you are at it, just cut out the salt.
And thus the narrative grew wings , and the gospel according to the pundits, was manifest, and soon the low-fat craze of the 80s and 90s was in full swing.
It’s business you know!
Have you noticed that as soon as any diet is gaining ground, for whatever reason, hot on the heels of its popularity, or becoming the brave new world, are the food manufacturers.
They must spend at least some of their billions, keeping an eye on the average Joe’s convictions, then paying homage to those same convictions, by offering up their shitty, cheap versions.
These guys will stop at nothing.
Many of us were taken in by the spin doctors
I was, let me tell you. There’s no better way to promote sales than to spin the rhetoric of fear.
The spin doctors I am referring to are the sleazy scientists who spin the narratives for food companies, (and for dieticians) coming up with scientific proof regarding health and food, and supplements.
Imagine that…getting paid handsomely to spin a web of lies on a daily basis.
(And before you ask, no, conscience was not allowed to enter their equation. Please leave it at the door. You can pick truth up for your own family when you leave work.)
I imagine it’s hard to give up a fabulous salary once your lifestyle is supported by that salary, however hard your conscience is telling you otherwise.
And so, in an effort to keep my family in tip-top condition…
I did buy the cuts of meat that I found out later, were once fed to farm animals, the chicken breasts, and the beef fillets.
In hindsight it was awful stuff.
Low fat meant low taste, and dry as a Salvation Army get-together, no matter how easy you were on the cooking.
But I didn’t go the full Monty. I bought lower-fat milk…for at least a week…but gave into the pressures of a fat-loving family.
Over time, I started my own research, reflected on my childhood and all the fat we ate, and gradually climbed back up the faith-in-fat ladder.
But not Granny…
Granny was my friend’s mother.
Granny was the life and soul of any party, devilish, always there with a joke, and with a quick repartee.
When her grandson described her as an old fart, her response was…then you’d better be careful. I might hang around for longer than might be safe for you.
She babysat her grandchildren.
She gave speeches at her grandchildren’s weddings, and nobody was spared!
She came out to dinner with us regularly.
She helped out in our library.
But then things changed
Granny’s husband died of cancer. She’d tried to save him. She had!
She was convinced about the no-fat protocol, even as she saw him waste away.
And she was convinced even more after his death.
Nothing with fat ever passed her lips from then on.
Interestingly she would bring packet soups for lunch to work, and when I suggested they were not so good for her, she replied that she had added chopped herbs to the concoction.
One night she came to dinner…
I had made the best soup, a broth, using chicken feet to make the stock.
It was the elixir of life, I tell you, THAT before I had even added the cream and mushrooms.
“You sure there’s no fat in this Maria?” she asked.
“Quite sure,” I added. “It’s all good stuff,” I assured her, catching her daughter’s smile.
Sometimes lies, for the right reason, are forgiven on the spot. Did you know that? It’s in the catechism of Maria, a soon-to-be-published exposé.
To be honest I think it was the first bit of nourishment she ’d had since David’s passing. She licked her lips, dunked her bread roll, and when I asked if she would like more, the answer was yes.
The next two courses had their fair share of fat, but she had stopped asking by then. She was on a roll (pun intended) and declared, as she left for home, that it was by far the best food she had eaten in a while.
I have no doubt it was!
But I suspect she still held the fear of fat!
And very soon…
Now I can’t put a time-frame on when she became less coherent. Time flashes by in our busy lives, but it would have been little more than a year after this dinner that we began to see the change in her.
For a number of years she had helped out at work with us, but soon she was making excuses. She was too busy, she had an appointment.
To me she had become afraid of making mistakes.
She avoided coming out.
And accepting dinner invitations.
She forgot to turn off the stove.
Soon the diagnosis of dementia was given.
And within a short period of time her home, her refuge, was sold and she went into care…something she had always dreaded.
And in her lucid times she railed against the unfairness of it all.
The facts of ageing
The reality is that as we age, there is an increased likelihood of suffering dementia.
It’s one of society’s greatest fears.
So many markers of age seem to strike all of a sudden, eyes failing, hearing impaired, strength compromised, and vitality just not there.
But none of those strikes fear as much as the prospect of a dementia diagnosis.
I’ve watched it happen to a family member, a professor of mathematics who travelled the world delivering his research papers, a lover of fine food, and wine (a moderate drinker), who in the last 15 years or so, followed a strict low-fat diet. Not his idea by the way!
The decline was soon apparent.
And now his days are spent staring into space…not dead as yet, but he might as well be.
Sometimes he plays simple childish games with the other demented people, while onlookers cheer.
I hate that!
And so would he, if he could get his brain in order!
But then, maybe he gets something out of it. I just don’t know.
Category Theory (something he was passionate about ), or playing quoits? Yours to choose.
Hobson’s choice really!
And finally a reflection by Professor Fredrik Nyström, on the vindication of fat.
“I’ve been working with this for so long. It feels great to have this scientific report, and that the skepticism towards low-carb diets among my colleagues has disappeared during the course of the work. When all recent scientific studies are lined up the result is indisputable: our deep-seated fear of fat is completely unfounded. You don’t get fat from fatty foods, just as you don’t get atherosclerosis from calcium or turn green from green vegetables.”
