The clean eating conundrum: Food-focused quackery masks age-old obsession
I love food. Give me a roast chicken smothered in butter and paprika, a summer salad toppled with blueberries and blue cheese, or my mother's chocolate sprinkled pavlova and I am in a state of bliss.
When my favourite writer Nora Ephron was dying of leukaemia, she wrote of the things she would miss. After family? "Waffles, the concept of waffles, twinkle lights, butter, Paris, and pie."
Yet, in recent years I noticed amongst my girlfriends that food has become something that was increasingly feared and could only be enjoyed as part of a strict and increasingly obscure regimen, all under the alias of 'clean eating'.