Yahoo Lifestyle Diet Challenge: Could You Eat Like Your Grandma For A Week?
A self-confessed foodie, 29-year-old Lauren Smelcher Sams knew that a retro diet of tinned food, meat and three veg would be difficult to stomach.
It's day five and I have scurvy. I'm quite sure of it. There are three small ulcers on my tongue and I'm sure they're the result of not having eaten a skerrick of fresh fruit for a week. It's all Nan's fault.
All week, I've been following Nan's diet - or at least the diet she ate at my age. Before I started, I'd worried about what I'd let myself in for. Would I have to eat offal and, if so, did osso buco count?
When Nan emails me her diet, my anxiety quickly turns to amazement. Eggs and bacon for breakfast most days? Pudding and cream after nearly ever dinner? How did she do it? How is she still in possession of her original heart? Our diets couldn't be more different.
I eat lots of fresh fruit and veg (though I love dessert too much to go the full Paltrow) and I love food. I love cooking it, thinking about it, buying it and, of course, eating it. I think nothing of spending hundreds of dollars on a "special" restaurant dinner, or even $5 on a bunch of herbs that will likely rot in my fridge. My friends and I talk about what we eat because it defines us. Oh, you have soy milk with your coffee? Right. You're a gluten-free vegan who doesn't mind the odd dumpster dive? Fair enough.
On day one, I hit the shops - and a stumbling block. Nan would have only eaten produce in season. I realise I have no idea what that is. With a few exceptions (mangoes, cherries), everything is available year-round now.
That night, I prepare my first meal: lamb chops with mashed potato, beans and carrots. I thought all that peeling, chopping, boiling and mashing would take hours, but it's surprisingly quick. It's also delicious. But then with three tablespoons of butter, a generous pour of cream in the mash and salt sprinkled liberally it would be, wouldn't it?
Next comes dessert. Nan had homemade dessert every single night (and still makes all her cakes). This sounds terribly exciting until I have to actually do it. Now I know why we have an obesity epidemic: sweet foods are everywhere and require no effort at all. Back in Nan's day, if you wanted apple crumble or chocolate cake, you had to make it. This is something I struggle with all week - I can't just reach for a biscuit or chocolate when I feel hungry.
And I do feel hungry. Every day. Before I started this challenge, I worried that I'd put on weight. In fact, I end up losing a kilo - partly, I think, because Nan's portion sizes were mini compared to mine.
My lunch is usually a gourmet salad, sushi, or baguette from the Spanish bakery near my office. For Nan, it meant two slices of buttered white bread and a tin of baked beans. I loathe baked beans and, by day three, think I might cry if I have to eat them again. So I try Nan's summer salad which sounds promising until I realise it comprises white buttered bread, lettuce, tomato and grated carrot. I'm left starving - and puzzled: how could anyone survive on so little? On day four I get my answer. "I think I know why you're so hungry," emails Nan.
"I smoked a lot then, which probably curbed my appetite." Probably, Nan.
I save the most difficult meal for last: offal. Nose-to-tail eating might be hip now, but in Nan's day it was simply what everyone did. My butcher tells me chicken livers are the way to go, so I fry them in butter and serve them, as instructed, slightly pink, with sauteed onions. They taste like pate but have the texture of wet wool. By the week's end, I'm desperate for some variety. Some spice, some seasoning. An avocado even. But it's not all bad; I've realised a few things about the way I eat. I'd always suspected, for example, that my snacking might be undoing all my healthy efforts, but until this week I had no idea how bad it was. When I stop reaching for yoghurt, bananas and nuts I am hungry, but, of course, I survive.
It dawns on me how much time I spend thinking about food. Nan didn't obsess about what she ate. Food was fuel and ingredients were simple, if bland. Following Nan's diet and planning exactly what I'd be having all week rather than pecking at ready-made food, meant I knew exactly what I'd be eating. Having said that, I don't ever want to live in a world without avocado.
If you really are what you eat, I am many things. But I'm not baked beans on toast.
LAUREN'S MEAL PLAN FOR THE WEEK:
Day 1: Breakfast: Porridge, instant coffee. Lunch: Baked beans on white toast. Dinner: Lamb chops, mashed potato, boiled carrots and beans; apple crumble with cream.
Day 2: Breakfast: Bacon, fried eggs, white toast, instant coffee. Lunch: Baked beans on toast. Dinner: Steak, mashed potato, boiled carrots and beans; apple crumble with cream.
Day 3: Breakfast: Porridge, instant coffee. Lunch: Carrot, lettuce and tomato sandwich on white bread. Dinner: Fish and chips; lemon delicious.
Day 4: Breakfast: Bacon, fried eggs, toast, instant coffee. Lunch: Carrot, lettuce and tomato on white bread. Dinner: Roast lamb, pumpkin and potato, Yorkshire pudding; trifle.
Day 5: Breakfast: Bacon, fried eggs, white toast, instant coffee. Lunch: Ham, carrot, lettuce and tomato sandwich on white
bread. Dinner: Sauteed chicken livers and onions, white bread; rice pudding.
For 77-year-old Lorraine Heaven sampling her granddaughter's diet meant trying new foods - and lots of them.
Before I start the challenge, I email Lauren to apologise. After all, she'll have to spend the week following my 1964 diet, which involved hours of preparation and cooking time. Even today, I tend to make all my food from scratch, especially all my cakes and biscuits. Poor Lauren.
I, on the other hand, expect that following Lauren's diet will be easy. After all, she is young and worldly, and I imagine that everything on her meal planner will be convenient and readily accessible. In fact, I'm quite excited.
But when I see Lauren's list of food, my complacency turns to concern. For a start, her daily diet is less about having three distinct meals than constantly grazing. A handful of strawberries here, a pot of yoghurt there. There are so many snacks - and I don't snack, ever. She also eats a lot of sugary foods.
The first day goes smoothly - though I can't manage all the coffee Lauren drinks - and the following day, after I get my hair done, I head to the mall to buy a chicken fajita, which is on Lauren's list and which I've never tried before. It was huge - and came as a meal deal with a sugary drink and fries. I refuse both, but it still costs $10.25. It seems like a lot of money for some rice and a bit of chicken.
Fajitas aren't the only new foods I try. On the third day, "red velvet cake", "sushi and seaweed salad" and "packet pasta and sauce" are also on Lauren's list. The cake shop offers to make a red velvet cake for $35, but this seems like a lot, so instead I ask for a slice of the gooiest, richest cake they have. I buy sushi from the mall and head to the supermarket for the packet pasta. There, I soon get lost. I've never shopped in the "quick food" aisle, so it takes me a long time to find it.
In the end, I don't even end up eating it. I have the cake - the first store-bought cake I've eaten for many years - for morning tea, and it's so creamy and sugary, it puts my teeth on edge. I try to wash away the sweetness with coffee, but in the end I have to clean my teeth to get rid of the taste. After that, I can only manage half the sushi for lunch (although I like the seaweed salad - it's like nothing I've ever tasted) and by dinnertime, I can't face the pasta. Guiltily, I butter two pieces of bread and head to bed feeling completely out of kilter.
Over the next few days, I find the large midday meals particularly difficult to stomach. In the '60s, dinner was the main meal. Every night, we ate meat and three vegetables - one green, one yellow and always potato. Even today, I still prefer a light lunch and a larger evening meal. In the afternoons I like to do crafts - knitting, making my own clothes, painting or writing - and Lauren's lunches leave me feeling sleepy.
The portion sizes are also a big adjustment. In the '60s, our plates were considerably smaller - about 20cm across - and even now, I use small plates. I tried the enormous modern ones for a while, but decided there was just too much food on them. I'm also struck by the salt content of Lauren's diet and the amount of food you eat with your hands. I like to eat with a knife and fork.
By the end of the week I'm relieved to have finished. I'll never eat as much convenience food as Lauren, but I'm happy to say that seaweed salad and red velvet cake (which I eventually made myself) are a new part of my dietary repertoire.
LORRAINE'S MEAL PLAN FOR THE WEEK:
Day 1: Breakfast: Coffee, cereal with full-cream milk. Snack: Fruit and Greek yoghurt, biscuit. Lunch: Salad, coffee. Snack: Yoghurt, peppermint tea. Dinner: Steak, heirloom tomatoes, buttered green beans; gourmet ice-cream.
Day 2: Breakfast: Cereal, fruit and yoghurt. Lunch: Chicken fajita. Dinner: Corn and pumpkin soup; gourmet ice-cream.
Day 3: Breakfast: Coffee, boiled egg, wholegrain toast, orange. Snack: Cake. Lunch: Sushi, seaweed salad. Dinner: Bread (instead of packet pasta and sauce).
Day 4: Breakfast: Multigrain toast with honey, cranberry and hibiscus tea. Snack: Coffee. Lunch: Vegetable soup, crackers, apple. Snack: Coffee, macaron. Dinner: Thai-style chicken noodles with lemongrass, lime and coriander.
Day 5: Breakfast: Carman's muesli with full-cream milk. Snack: Coffee, fruit, yoghurt. Lunch: Chicken and salad sandwich. Snack: Chocolate biscuit. Dinner: Pizza; ice-cream.
