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o p i n i o n
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When
you begin the regime
Victor
Paul Borg's lost it.
Weight, that is. He shares his secrets on eating to slim |
A handful of weeks ago, to trim a few kilos of extra baggage,
my flatmate went on a regime diet. She shoved aside all creams
and oils and cheeses (the essence of good food), and started eating
roasted and parched vegetables, pasta with blanched vegetables,
salads that would suit a rabbit, and flat porridge for breakfast.
I told her about my diet of hearty soups accompanied by flavour-packed
dips and finger food: it's good, and she could eat her heart out.
'I want immediate
results,' she mumbled, perhaps unconvinced or perhaps too driven
by the grim determination she had mustered.
I said: 'Let's
see how long your regime diet will last?'
If you only
need to shed a few kilos picked up on Christmas party binges,
you can adopt my diet and eat well - with a bit of imagination
and planning. The results are immediate, too. Give it a month.
There were
phases in my life when I suffered from chronic chubbiness. I went
on starvation diets, skipping meals, but these always backfired
because of the inherent psychological trap. To skip meals, you
have to focus your concentration to suspend the natural clock
that prepares the mind and body for food. So you end up thinking
about food and, as the mouth produces saliva in anticipation,
it becomes a struggle to stay away from the fridge. The more you
think about food, the more you crave it - the more you put it
off, the more you become obsessed by it. This intensifies until
one evening, caught slightly unaware, you open the fridge and
stuff yourself in a spasm of greed.
Other times,
I did what my flatmate did, dropping fatty foodstuffs from my
meals. I started eating tasteless grub. Perhaps if you use imagination
in cooking with, say, pulses for healthy and flavourful meals,
a regime diet would work, but you need time to plan and create.
You need patience and to concoct dishes with tender love. But
love for food is the last thing someone on a regime diet nurses.
Disgust is a more likely feeling, the emotional predisposition
necessary to banish fatty foodstuffs with contempt. So the result
may be pasta without cream and parmesan, a half-finished taste
with flat flavours. Or roasted chicken with baked potatoes and
grilled vegetables, a dry assortment of foodstuffs without that
creamy sauce to lift and bind the tastes. Or raw salads minus
that oily, pickled dressing, not to mention the missing accompanying
chop, marinated and pan-fried and baked.
You get the
picture. Regime diets don't last: the moment your determination
slacks, fatty foodstuffs stealthily creep back into your dishes.
I remember catching my flatmate with a heaped plate of creamy
pasta.
'Forgotten
your diet?'
She dismissed
my question with a wave of hand, her face in her plate.
For a diet
to survive beyond the initial heady two weeks, it has to fill
the stomach and satisfy the taste buds. I stumbled on such a diet.
Think soups. Think dips. Think finger food. And all the three
combined. Soup to fill you up like water filling a balloon, crusty
bread smeared in a dip to add an extra layer of taste, followed
by a few pieces of finger food with strong, explosive tastes to
intoxicate those taste buds into satisfied sloth.
Although
they have the appearance and muck of baby food, soups can be varied
and good. You can do quick soups such as cauliflower or carrot
or spinach soup, frying the base ingredients (including onion),
simmered with chicken stock, then blended, creamed, and sprinkled
with parmesan. Or you can opt for tastier, full-bodied soups.
Minestrone is an all time favourite. Bean soup with concentrated
pistou (pesto-like concentrate) and elbow pasta is a variation.
So is thick lentil and bacon soup with cloves for an exquisite
taste. For different textures and flavours, think potato and leek
soup with sour cream and milk. Or chicken and corn soup, with
its cleaner, gingery taste. The trick is to vary the taste and
texture. Take another example, an Indian soup with a fried base
of seeds (mustard, coriander, cumin seeds), then chopped carrots,
tomatoes and potatoes, with ginger, ground curry spices - all
simmered, then drizzled with lemon juice and vinegar, plus chopped
coriander.
Soups are
inherently dietary partly because of their water content, and
partly because they omit chunky chops of fatty meats, especially
red meats. But soups, no matter how substantial, only offer one-dimensional
tastes. You need accompaniments that introduce contrasting tastes
from a wide spectrum of flavours. Think bruschetta, or focaccia
smeared with a blend of anchovies, butter, olive oil, garlic,
parsley, basil, Parmesan, and grilled. Most times, however, nothing
beats dips scooped with baked pitta bread or vegetables crudities.
I go for
dips that have a strong Mediterranean taste, almost always adding
a dash of chilli. Hummus is probably the most popular dip, but
one of my favourites combines baked aubergines blended with tahini,
garlic, basil, olive oil and lemon juice. Another blends black
olives with garlic, basil, olive oil, chilli and mayonnaise. Or
anchovies with garlic, chilli, olive oil and egg yolks. And how
about mashed feta cheese mixed with chopped onion and cucumber,
yoghurt, mint and olive oil?
To finish
off a meal, I also like to have some piece of finger food with
delicacy ingredients - for that deep taste that explodes and matures
on the palette long after you have scooped your plate clean. One
of the easiest things to do is jacket potatoes with a filling
added on the plate; it could be as simple as cream, caviar and
smoked salmon, or as elaborate as fried bacon and onion in melted
cheddar, cream and chilli. Another exciting delicacy is mushrooms
baked and stuffed with a sauce of fried onion and garlic, then
bound by tomatoes, anchovies and herbs. Spiced, herbed potato
wedges are easy, quick, and piquant with garlic, chilli and parmesan.
So are slices of aubergine brushed with olive oil, grilled, smeared
with olive paste, and topped with basil, tomato and mozzarella
slices. Or, ever tried a fish samosa?
If you take
on this combined diet based on soups a couple of times a week,
you can still make allowance for substantial main courses. Along
these lines nothing beats fish cooked simply, basked with a marinate
of olive oil, vinegar, garlic, lemon juice, and baked - or grilled
plainly on a bed of salt. Other dishes need no introduction, pasta
and meat-based dishes.
You see,
a diet doesn't have to mean eating badly. If you despise what's
on your plate, what chances of that diet lasting beyond the initial
momentum of grim determination? The preparation of food and eating
is a celebratory ritual - dinner has the thanksgiving symbolism
of the closure of one day and the beginning of the rite of passage
to the next day. If you talk yourself into disdain for fatty foodstuffs,
eating will become a chore, like commuting to work. In self-denial,
dinner will take the nature of a furtive guilt trip. But you cant
fool your body: instead of metabolising the food smoothly and
discarding leftovers, the body will hoard every glob of fat in
preparation for the imminence of self-imposed starvation.
Want a diet?
First, have fun with food. Make the ritual of creating a meal
more elaborate, and experiment with dishes. Cooking is art, so
relax, be creative. Only then will a diet - of soups, accompaniments,
delicacy finger food, or your other variations - work, because
it is creative and civilised. And don't forget that glass of wine,
that most civilised of rituals.
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