For the love of fat
While considering ideas for an article to send to the New Scientist this afternoon, I stumbled upon a new invention.
Reported in The Telegraph and co, it’s a new low-fat chocolate bar. The technical details of this chocolate I will reserve for the New Scientist. However, reading the commentary on this invention did give me reason for pause. Overwhelmingly, these publications seems to be hailing the invention as a positive move towards curbing obesity in our society. But is it really healthy?
Granted, I’m no chocolate lover so I don’t have the problem of chocolate cravings. I do, however, have an exceptionally gluttonous sweet tooth so I can appreciate how those after dinner desserts add pounds per mouthful. The thought though, of a chocolate which is essentially chocolate flavoured water and God knows what else concerned me. Not only because of the idea of putting something artificial into my mouth but also the hidden psychological effects.
They say that it will smell, taste and feel like the real deal but at the end of the day, it’s not. If this product contains 60 percent water, there is only 40 percent chocolate. This theoretically means that it only contains 40 percent of the calories compared to a normal bar. A good thing by any means of measurement but I imagine it would cause havoc with quite a few dieting plans. (Consider trying to make a cake with 40 percent chocolate, 60 percent flour, 35 percent fat and three eggs, half yolk please…)
At the same time, it also contains only 40 percent of the nutrients. Well, if chocolate has all the antioxidants and health properties that it’s reported to have, is this still a good thing? Fruit and vegetables with only 40 percent nutrition probably wouldn’t have quite the same effect. What’s more, it may be just chocolate at this stage, but what if they started producing 40 percent bread? Or 40 percent cheese? Oh wait, they already do something like that. Thankfully it tastes quite awful so we can be reminded of what real food tastes like.
Health issues aside, as a glorified dieting product, it may help some people shed a few pounds but it certainly doesn’t treat the cause. After all, how many of us have picked up a low-fat product and then thought ‘well this is only x calories so I suppose I could have another’? Sinful treats with lower calories will certainly do nothing to teach people about a balanced diet and surely that’s what we should really be aiming for when promoting a healthy and active society?
I’ll take my extra serving of full-fat banoffee pie with running an extra mile any day.
Here’s one I meant to do earlier
The moment I had sat down my thoughts had escaped me despite the fact that only a moment ago about five million thoughts were whizzing around in my head. Here I am, writing. Except it’s called worrying about my grammar and punctuation. See, normally grammar comes to me naturally. But now, I am “writing for an audience” so the little voice in my head is making me scrutinise everything and probably making it robotic and plain. And with regards to punctuation, well unless I am writing a formal piece, it’s usually dispensed with. Except of course, when it’s used to make a point. And capitalisation? I’m afraid it’s not one of those things that I find hot…
Ah yes, I was going to talk about my productive afternoon/evening. Some how, and for no reason, I decided to clean my kitchen. So there I was, between making my dinner and sweeping the floor, I had rearranged my kitchen. Of course, once I got started, I just couldn’t stop. Well, except when I got to my room where I started picking things up, put a couple of things away and then just piled everything else in a corner on top of each other. Precisely where they were before, only this time in a marginally smaller pile.
But. I realised exactly how many things I have that I just have no need for.
The George (that is, my GF Next Grilleration Health Grill) and I met whilst I was browsing the Internet. It was greatly reduced from its hefty price of almost £100. Bargain. Mine. A week of paninis later it got too fussy. They make it look SO easy in the sandwich shop, and the result is just SO tasty. Turns out cutting things to just the right size takes a lot of effort. A lot more than having left over something or other from last night, cooked microwave style. Yummy. The George now resides in the hallway next to my shoes, back in its box.
The crock pot which was an absolute necessity for making chicken soup! Still in its original packaging and now occupying the new space that is the top of my kitchen cupboard. It materialised that there are only so many ways you could make soup and most of them taste pretty similar. Plus, how to transport it to work without spillages? When do I have time to prepare a whole chicken anyway? Perhaps best left to special occasions such as Christmas… just as well the cast iron casserole dish I got last year does the same job.
I know too that there is a not so secret love affair between women and shoes. My small collection of perhaps 30 or so pairs boasts numerous one wear wonders. I feel for them honestly, but you just never know these things until you try it. And of course by the time you’ve done that, there’s just no going back. At least I am not the same reckless way with men. Alas, I’m sure the ones at the bottom really will find their suited outfits. One day.
So as I go about my business of making a pile, I find more and more things… the helmet for the bike I never use because by the time I’ve unfolded it to get to work, I would already be late; the ski trousers in case I was ever going skiing, right after I take those lessons, right after I officially join the surf club and attend to its respective duties; the hair straighteners for drying my hair; the yoga mat… etc. etc.
I don’t even know why I got the maracas and tambourine…
*sigh*
So I make myself an half empty promise to cut down on this consumerism knowing full and well it will last as long as my attention span whilst I tend to my new seed sprouter and freshly planted herb garden.
