I find myself at a pivotal crossroads in my culinary journey. There's still so much for me to learn, and the more I learn the more I realise there is to learn. I've started to uncover both the profound and obvious interconnection between my understanding of food and a broader comprehension of the world's agricultural systems.
Perhaps it's the starkness of January, with its introspective post-birthday blues, that has led me to this moment of contemplation. This transition from my fiftieth year to the fifty-first seems to mark more than just another year; it signifies a deeper, personal evolution. My latest source of inspiration has been the Netflix documentary 'You Are What You Eat', a study contrasting the lives of identical twins. In an eight-week study, one follows a vegan diet and the other, a meat-based diet. Their stories of progress, a mirror reflection, interwoven with startling revelations of our species in terms of consumption. Watching their journey and gaining new insight, I feel a stirring within, a call-to-action resonating in my core. It's a wake-up call to do better, to break the cycle of repeating the same dietary choices over and over again. It's a constant journey and this documentary serves as a fuel, igniting a desire to rethink my approach to food and its broader implications on health and the environment.
This revelation is both obvious and sobering, it brings into sharp focus the intricate ties between the meals on our plates and the well being of our planet. On occasion, the stark disconnect between the origins of our food, the 'farms', as we know them, and their final journey to our tables is startlingly evident.
Growing up in a time when meat was the cornerstone of every meal, I was steeped in the "meat and two veg" culinary tradition that dominated the 1970s. As a child, too young to remember the complexities of the three-day week and the austerity measures of that era, my understanding of food was somewhat limited! It was a time when food processing plants like Heinz began to rise, and the Chorleywood method of bread-making heralded the start of mass production in food although I’m sure this started much earlier than that with the food shortages that post war brings. Under the guise of progress and moving away from growing and farming your own.
The quintessentially British meal, a simple, hearty, and unpretentious offering made up of meat, potatoes and other vegetables was the backbone of the approach to my childhood diet. This culinary tradition, deeply rooted from generation to generation with my closest influence being my grandparents' kitchen, which often took the form of robust stews and the iconic Lancashire hot pot. Stews, brimming with tender chunks of meat, hearty potatoes, and a medley of seasonal vegetables, filling their home with comforting aromas that promised a satisfying meal. Far more than sustenance these dishes weren't just meals; they were a celebration of simplicity and nourishment, each spoonful a connection to family, tradition, and the unassuming bounty of my Grandads Garden.
On a day-to-day basis however, this tradition was gradually eroded, the working home of a modern family needed convenience making way for new culinary influences and practices. New gadgets, the deep fryer, the microwave created a subtle shift and on reflection most evenings would consist of chips fresh from frier, a pork chop or battered fish, peas or carrots. The newly opened freezer centre down the road providing various time and cost saving opportunities. Beef patties, breaded fish, potato waffles and oven chips as examples. These new staples, while convenient, signaled a departure from the culinary heritage that once was, blending old flavours with the practicalities of modern living.
Living within a culture can often be like watching the seasons change in nature. Just as one may not immediately perceive the gradual shift from the fresh bloom of spring to the lush fullness of summer, so too was my experience growing up with its traditional 'meat and two veg' ethos. The transformation from home-grown, wholesome meals to the onset of processed food and mass production was as imperceptible as the slow transition from summer to autumn. It was only when looking back, much like observing the stark difference between the bare branches of winter compared to the vibrancy of spring, that I fully appreciated the extent of this culinary evolution.
In the environment of my youth both my palate and my early views were shaped by these straightforward dishes. This culinary simplicity was all I knew, and it inadvertently narrowed my perspective on the vast world of food. It was within this narrow frame of understanding that I, regrettably, put my foot in my mouth a couple of times concerning meat-free meals. The first blunder during my university years was born out of sheer ignorance, stupidity, and a lack of exposure to dietary diversity. I regret turning my nose up at Bolognese made from Quorn and the ensuing silence that followed. Then, in a twist of irony, I found myself discussing this initial faux pas during another meal, hoping to spark conversation and offer praise to the cook on the dish laid before me. Unfortunately, this attempt to navigate unfamiliar culinary waters only led to another awkward moment, where the lasagne we were having was made from Quorn and I hadn’t realised!
Life at any age comes with its unique set of dietary habits and challenges. For someone who has enjoyed a varied omnivorous diet all these years, considering a shift towards healthier eating isn't just about changing food preferences; it's about adapting a lifestyle. It's about understanding the balance between enjoyment, health, flavour and nutrition.
We roll forward a good twenty (ahem 30) years and now I want to shake that boy and educate him! Which I obviously can’t do. The missteps, while embarrassing, they teach me the importance of approaching unfamiliar cuisines with an open mind and a willingness to learn. I see the value in guiding, not shaking, the boy I once was towards broader culinary horizons. Contemplating those crossroads and that path ahead. The direction feels clear in my mind that I need to further embrace a more flexitarian lifestyle. It resonates with my current ethos, blending the best of both worlds of being vegetarian and an omnivore in a harmonious dietary balance.
Choosing not to forsake meat entirely, I find comfort and sustainability in moderating my intake, savouring meat-free days with ease and appreciation. My focus shifting towards quality over quantity, with a mindful approach to consuming what truly nourishes. By integrating lentils, a bounty of vegetables, and other plant-based foods, discovering the joy in extending the presence of meat across meals, rather than letting it dominate the plate.
This conscious choice to live more flexibly, both in diet and in thought. Flexitarianism, a term that encapsulates a journey towards a more considered, environmentally conscious way of eating.
Reflecting a commitment to personal health and planetary well-being.
Using the idea that we have breakfast, lunch and dinner then that’s twenty one chances or choices to make a difference to the way we eat in a week. Typically fourteen as most people eat the same breakfast every day although I’m working on this!
This journey into flexitarianism isn't a manifesto for vegetarianism, nor is it a sermon aimed at converting the world to plant-based diets overnight. It's an invitation to explore the vast array of culinary options available to us, armed with the knowledge that every small choice can contribute to a larger change. I understand that food preferences, lifestyle changes, and especially budget constraints are real challenges that many face. This book is about presenting options and sharing knowledge with fellow cooks who are on the lookout for versatility in their diets.
Adopting a flexitarian approach is about finding balance and making conscientious decisions within our means. It's about recognizing that while the global food system may be under strain, the power of individual choices should not be underestimated. Whether it's opting for a meat-free Monday, choosing the vegetarian option at a restaurant, or simply incorporating more vegetables and legumes into your meals, each step counts. These choices aren't just about personal health or ethical considerations; they're small but significant contributions to a more sustainable and equitable food system.
In embracing this approach, the goal is to foster a mindset that values quality, sustainability, and diversity in our diets. It's an acknowledgment that while we may not have all the answers or the means to overhaul our diets completely, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. And in this case, that step can be as simple as a single meat-free meal.
You make such a great point about how the foods we grew up eating can carry on an influence for decades if we're not consciously trying to expand our repertoire. Kudos for making intentional choices around what you choose to eat and having the nuance to request thoughtfulness rather than a specific formulaic diet!
Oh great post Alex! I, too, watched the Netflix series 'You Are What You Eat' and another, 'Poisoned', which is equally appalling.
I've hung on (too long) to the idyllic image of 'food animals' frolicking in the fields, baby animals free to stay with their mothers, fish being wild caught... etcetera. Nothing could be further from the truth. Animal welfare aside, the antibiotics and food handling issues are stomach-churning.
You raise so many good points about intentionality and a transition to a more sustainable diet. Our grocery stores and cookbooks are better equipped to support those choices, I simply have to embrace them. Thank you.