Happy New Year!

As the Christmas tree of life prepares for the dustcart of destiny, I’m taking stock of all the unnecessary treats I’ve consumed over the past week – salted caramel hazelnuts, butter fudge, chocolate mints, chocolate with chilli, Pringles, crisps with dips, mince pies, panettone, Christmas pudding, burfi, samosas, pakoras, Bailey’s, champagne, prosecco, cava, red wine, white wine, elderflower vodka... All things I normally eschew, and certainly shouldn’t be eating when I am still religiously pouring coconut milk on my muesli in order to comply with the rules of my yeast and dairy intolerances. What is it about Christmas that makes us (for I know, and you know, that I am not alone) pig out so unashamedly? I blame boredom – for, you have to admit, Christmas is without exception the most boring time of year... And, this year, I also blame the bad weather – which has been relentless. With little to do but veg out on the sofa, the snacking becomes as inevitable as the panic rush to the gym that will follow later this week. Christmas was, after all, invented in order to get us all to part with more money than we have for more food and drink than we should reasonably consume. And New Year was invented to get us to part with yet more money for gym memberships that most of us will never use beyond January.

If joining a gym is on your list of new year’s resolutions, take my advice and wait until February, as the desire may have worn off by then.

But if you are already a member of a gym – as I am – make sure you use it this week, before the Christmas apathy has had time to take even more of a grip. All those festive treats I have been eating are not only addictive but they seem, in my case at least, to flip a switch in my brain that convinces me that healthy living is not only undesirable but also completely unnecessary.

Because of a fluey cold the week before Christmas, I have already been out of the gym for so long that the prospect of entering the locker room now fills me with as much joy as queuing for the January sales – so I will have to force myself back to yoga and aquarobics, and remind myself that I will love every stretch, splash and lunge... Because I’m worth it!

  

My Christmas survival kit

Days to go til Christmas and I have been struck down with a horrible winter cold – which has made me think about all the things we should keep in stock, especially over Christmas when we can’t nip out to the shops for fresh supplies.

. For that early tickle in the throat – suck Comvita lozenges. I like the aniseed flavoured sweet containing propolis (a substance honey bees make to sterilise the hive). I also take Echinaforce Forte – to galvanise my immune system’s white cells so they’re ready to fight the virus.

. For aches and pains and shivers, I need paracetamol.

. For a sore throat, I love Vogel’s Echinacea throat spray. If it’s really bad try Ultra Chloraseptic throat anaesthetic to numb the pain.

. For a bunged up nose, add Olbas bath to your tub for a soothing soak, and dot Olbas oil on your pillow and PJs.

. For my cough, I’m taking Potter’s Cough Remover – a herbal syrup that moves the cough virus up and away from your chest; but I also like Kaloba pelargonium – which speeds up the movement of the villi in the respiratory tract to shift the virus.

 I also swear by spicy food for a cold – to be honest I don’t feel like much else. So it’s curry for us again tonight...

‘Tis the season to be giving, tra la la la la, tra la la la...

A month on and I am still on the theme of charity. Well, it is Christmas time...

Since my last posting, I've been on a mini break to Portugal to visit my father.

While I was there he had one of those door-to-door callers asking for charity donations.  We get them all the time in London, and I'm ashamed to admit that knocking at our door isn’t always a roaring success – we're a bit picky about who we give to, although we have signed up for a number of charities to whom we now give on a monthly basis, including Shelter, St Mungo’s, Plan (through whom we sponsor a child in Burkina Faso), the Medical Foundation, and – the latest -  Battersea Dogs’ Home (we'd just visited the home, and the poor girl who knocked at our door was soaking wet and wearing ballet pumps...)

Anyway, back to Dad. Living where he does, he was quite surprised by this knock at the door, and told me afterwards how the caller had asked if he wanted to give money to help the poor children who had nothing. When Dad said, “No,” the caller asked, “So you don’t care about the poor children?”

“No,” Dad said – and sounded quite pleased with himself when he reported back to me. 

Of course Dad was imagining he’d cleverly foiled a rogue beggar with no genuine charity connections.

Later, we saw the man near the home of some of Dad’s friends.

“Did that chap call on you, too?” he asked.

“Yes,” said the wife. “I called Security!”

Later still we had dinner with another of Dad’s neighbours. Had the scrounger called on her, too?

“Yes, and I gave him 10 euros,” she said. “But he told me that last year I gave him 20... But I only had 10 on me today.”

“Didn’t you think he could be a scrounger?” Dad asked.

“Oh course he could be,” said his friend. “But he’d taken the trouble to come calling around our houses, knowing a lot of people would turn him away – whatever his motive, he must need that money. It was only 10 euros – nothing to me - and I believe in doing good deeds.”

I admired her attitude, and, when I dug a bit deeper, she told me that once, many years ago, she met a man who’d gone through a personal crisis and travelled to India to rediscover himself. There he’d been shocked by the plight of street children trying to scrape a living and often falling into the hands of men who would abuse them. He’d rescued a few of these children and given them food and shelter. But there were more children needing his help than he could provide for.

“I gave him £100,” she said. “And when I later told my husband what I’d done, he was so concerned by the story he got in touch with the man and pledged to help him all he could.”

That was the start of the Street Kids’ Community Village, which has since built at least 10 houses and gives food, shelter and education to as many children as it can.

You only need to have watched Slumdog Millionaire, or read The Blue Notebook (James A.Levine) to understand how crucial this work is.

So, this year, I will be adding them to my favourite charities list. 

And I'll be suggesting my father does too...

Who's getting YOUR five a day?

Giving up your seat on the train, throwing a coin in a busker’s hat, picking up some shopping for a housebound neighbour – we can all think of a few good deeds we occasionally perform. But, according to one happiness expert, we should all aim to do five good deeds a day for good karma.

When I pointed this out to my daughters, they were shocked. ‘Five? That’s A LOT!’

I think they’re right. Instead of counting my blessings at the end of every day I’m going to try counting my good deeds – and I bet they’ll rarely meet the target five.

My oldest daughter pointed out that she rarely gets a train seat to give up. Yes, she has a point – we may have to hunt around for good deeds we can do, and our day may not even lend itself to doing good deeds very easily. 

Reviewing my own routine, I can only think of a few good deeds I regularly perform:

. Always buying The Big Issue from Florentina, who sits outside my local Waitrose, and now calls me “My Friend”.

. Passing on tips to editors and journalists looking for help via email alerts - because I know what it’s like to be up against a deadline and, if I needed help, I’d welcome any leads I could get.

. Digging out any helpful health advice for friends and acquaintances who need it.

. Giving away my freebie goody-bag contents to people who will benefit from them.

. Collecting my daughters from the station when I look at the weather and know how much I would want a lift home if it was me...

That’s five – but not five a day!!

And let's not forget that for a good deed to be a truly good deed it must not have obvious pay-offs for you. I like the story I heard recently about a woman who had been given an apple. Five minutes later she passed a homeless woman in the street and gave the apple to her. The next day, quite randomly, a member of staff at the hotel where she was staying offered her a new apple from a bowl he was carrying.

Giving an editor a celeb's details after they'd just told me they wanted the story - but couldn't commission it out - did give me a bit of that shiny glow of altruism, and even if it didn't get me a job what did I have to lose?

Now I know why:

. Some friends fight me to pay the coffee bill, or put a big tip on the saucer.
. My mum plays scrabble with ladies who are 20 years older than her, wraps Christmas charity parcels for children in war-torn countries, and puts notes not coins in the church collection.
. My oldest daughter always scoops up any friend in need.
. My youngest daughter lends out favourite items of clothing.
. My husband gives freebie home made chocolates to dinner party clients, or drives across London to buy truffles from Borough Market instead of persuading a client to have something else.

But, more poignantly, there must be opportunities for good deeds I miss every day. For example,
. I always put the phone down on cold callers, instead of remembering it is just their miserable job and I am not improving their day.
. I rarely pay for extra time at the gym car park, and end up rushing out after classes when staying a few extra minutes would give me time to catch up on friends' news.
. I could make a point of emptying the dishwasher instead of leaving it for my husband to do...

Verdict: Must try harder....

The milk plot thickens...

So today, returning from the health food store, laden with Karo coconut milk, I read HealtheHelen’s blog about A2 milk – which may suit us dairy protein intolerants better than A1 after all...

Do read what she says, because she puts the argument very well. And, while I am perfectly happy and willing to try Karo in my coffee and porridge tomorrow, I must say that it would be much easier to be using a milk that the rest of the family can drink too.

The advice from York, which seems very good, is that, if you are intolerant to milk, you should go ahead and drop ALL dairy from your diet for six months, but then, when reintroducing milk, try A2 first and see if you react to it. York says that while allergic (IgE) reactions are usually directed at one protein type, intolerances are usually directed at multiple proteins, and it is unlikely (but not impossible) that you would therefore just have an A1 beta-casein milk intolerance.

All well and good, but, hey! my wallet's developing an intolerance too...

Shopping for a food intolerance can be expensive, as I discovered today. A single portion pot of yogurt substitute – the nutritionist recommended Co-Yo – cost me about £3.50. My cashew nut butter was the same price, and the Karo coconut milk £1.69. I can see myself resorting to black coffee and porridge made with water before too long as our 16 year old daughter is asking about what kind of car she can have for her next birthday. 

But, putting money worries aside for a moment, we had a fantastic brunch today – using delicious collar bacon and two types of sausage (pork with romany herbs and pork with black pudding) that we found at The Goods Shed in Canterbury on Thursday. Steve reported that no fat or water spilled out of the sausages when he cooked them, and we all agreed they were the best we’d tasted in a long time – and, completely free of dairy and yeast. 

No more pain, vin, or Boursin pour moi!

It’s now about a week since the results of my York Test revealed my intolerance to yeast and dairy foods, and the chat with York’s nutritionist, yesterday, revealed some good and bad news.

The good news is that I don’t have to avoid fruit and raw vegetables after all...  

Having suffered a very devastating yeast intolerance herself (this lady had ME), and having cured herself through diet, she found these things were fine to eat.

I may even be able to drink a bit of wine - although maybe she shouldn't have told me this - as apparently Jacob’s Creek say their wines are yeast free, having been double filtered. Whoopee!

The bad news is that peanuts, pistachios and dried fruit are all secretly yeasty – and I should also avoid MSG in Chinese food, Pringles, stock cubes and, who knew, fish and chip shop batter.

Not realising that my peanut butter was such a little demon, I thought I’d been doing quite well loading it onto my yeast free bread substitutes: rice cakes, Ryvitas, and Matzos. It will be almond or cashew butter from now on.

Avoiding dairy hasn’t been too much of a problem, although it takes some creative thinking when I am heading for the fridge hell-bent on devouring a chunk of cheese. 
Porridge made with oat drink is delicious, though I now realise I shouldn’t be sprinkling it with yeasty prunes, and, so far, I am not missing my daily yogurt (although the nice lady from York has suggested a coconut milk alternative, which I will try).

My new A2 milk – from cows that only carry the A2 protein and not the A1 protein with which people tend to have a problem – would be great in my coffee, except that, according to York, it is unlikely to be any better for me than the normal milk I have been eschewing. The nutritionist recommends a coconut drink (coconut seems to be a better alternative than the sugary nut drinks on offer), which apparently tastes fine in coffee, and which I will buy on my next visit to the health food shop. 

It's all fine when I'm at home, and get to my pasta before Steve and the parmesan do. The biggest problem, of course, is trying to fit a new regime in with my social life.

Last Saturday at lunch at a friend’s house, there was smoked mackerel pâté made with fromage frais, and toast to put it on. 

And on Wednesday, out for lunch with friends at Le Gavroche, the day would have been spoiled if I didn’t have any wine – and who could resist the bread basket and choice of salted or unsalted butters? Though I did say no to the cheeseboard.

My plan is to avoid the culprit foods as far as possible – but not become obsessed about them. If I had a serious illness and thought that changing my diet would help, then I would probably me more motivated. But, for now, I think it’s good to be aware of the problem, make sure I don’t over indulge in anything I shouldn’t, and just see how I get on...

. Some sites worth looking at if you're struggling to think of ways to cope with a food intolerance:
www.goodnessdirect.co.uk
www.theintolerantgourmet.com
www.healthysupplies.co.uk

Uh-oh! It’s the curse of the YorkTest!

I’ve known about, and have written about, the YorkTest for many years. But I’ve never been brave enough to do the test myself – I just couldn’t bring myself to prick my finger and squeeze the blood out.

I was happy to do this for a friend, some time back, though, and the process was gruelling. Her blood was thick and jammy and it took - I'm not joking - about 20 minutes and a lot of finger massaging to get it out. Sorry if you’ve now fainted.

I don’t know why, but even this protracted squeezing of her blood didn’t make me feel at all squeamish. But the thought of doing the same to myself still brought me out in hives.

Then came another YorkTest invitation – last week – to have tea at the Lanesborough Hotel and hear about York’s new research revealing the link between food intolerance and depression (very high, it turns out... Who knew you could be on antidepressants, when all you needed was to drop a food or two from your diet!).

The other journalists were talking about their food intolerance test results – and I realised that, still squeamish, I had mentally blocked my invitation to do this.

But, determined to find out what it was all about, I asked the lovely PR Julia to do the test for me as I averted my eyes and hoped my blood wouldn’t get too close to the jam for our scones.

It took Julia seconds to get the blood she needed, and, this week, I learned the results: I have intolerances to cow’s milk, yeast, egg white, beetroot, and a few wine grape varieties.

This was fascinating news. I already loathe egg white and beetroot, and always have done. I also hate milk – on its own.

But, while dropping beetroot and egg white from my diet poses no problem for me, milk is another matter. I am a cheese-aholic, and also love to start the day with a bowl of natural yogurt and fruit, and, later, a 50:50 milky coffee.

Yeast could be even more of a problem – it means no bread, no wine (although I happily note that champagne is a minimally yeasty wine!), and, according to a kinesiologist who also told me I was yeast intolerant about 12 years ago (and whose advice I ignored, because frankly it was too tiresome), nothing that is fermentable – including fresh fruit and raw vegetables. Mushrooms, being fungii, are naturally yeasty, and, of course, Marmite is out of the question now.

I had just bought a nice lot of Greek yogurt when I received the results, and there was a lovely olive baguette waiting to be eaten too – so I decided to delay my new regime. After all, I don’t have any symptoms that I know of – though I do want to see if anything changes when I stop eating these things.

According to Dr John Mansfield, author of The Six Secrets of Successful Weight Loss, food intolerances lie behind seven out of 10 weight problems. And York’s medical director says I may suddenly feel more energetic and have (sorry!) happier bowels when I avoid my culprit foods.

So today I went off shopping for dairy and yeast free breakfasts to replace my lovely yogurt.

It’s not that easy!

What will I put in my coffee?

I hate soya milk, and other options such as almond milk tend to contain additives and sugar (and sugar is another food we avoid when we can’t eat yeast).

And, if I go for black coffee, I will find it too bitter unless I sweeten it...

I have plumped for a new cow’s milk that doesn’t contain the milk protein – hopefully the York nutritionist will say that’s OK. My plan B is something called oat drink (I’ll let you know what it’s like).

I can put this in my coffee and use it to make porridge instead of eating yogurt (though I do recall oats making me bloated in the past...). If I get clever I may even make some yogurt with it (once I’ve found out how to get the start up culture without resorting to normal yogurt). And I will sweeten my porridge or home made yogurt with pure granulated Xylitol.

Instead of toast, I will try Matzos or rice cakes – with peanut butter, instead of dairy, and banana (if the nutritionist says it’s not too sugary and fermentable).

Steve is already muttering that he doesn’t like the idea of me becoming an even fussier eater (he can’t understand the no beetroot or egg white thing!). But I reckon most of our evening meals will be OK – as long as he uses my milk for any Bechamel, and doesn’t try to tempt me with a glass of wine and the cheese board.

I’ll let you know how I get on!