The high fat diet – a little glimmer of hope in the depths of hell

The world is distressing me. Torture, war, asteroids and disease. Corporate power and austerity, beheadings and starvation. Do they know it’s Christmas schmistmas? We’re collectively in the seventh circle of hell and I don’t mean Oxford Circus.

Amid the daily distresses about which I can do so little, a small victory. Yesterday, following a dodgy blood test, a doctor finally acknowledged that I might not be wrong on another conspiracy about which I feel quite angry and helpless.

As a teen and in my early twenties, I was handed antibiotics like sweets in a battle against acne. They all worked marvellously for a while, and I basked in the glory of a fair complexion, until the germs evolved and I moved on to the next miracle pill. I exhausted the lot, and my condition was never cured.

Over time, I too became exhausted. When Jonah was born, his membranes were ragged. His behaviour increasingly became a cause for concern in his toddler years, when he would walk on tiptoes, and line up toys, and babble ad nauseum about scaffolding, or whatever inanimate object or number had caught his attention. These years of pill popping began to haunt me, especially as my health began to deteriorate. Sleep deprivation notwithstanding (nightly tantrums were a feature of Jonah’s early development) I began to have other problems too. Plagued by skin rashes, fungal infections, and a lethargy that hit me like a brick wall whenever I ate, it took a nutritionist to make the link between my antibiotic use, Jonah’s Asperger’s and my own ailments. But doctors always disregarded the fact the Candiasis, as natropaths labelled the condition, or the growth of fungus that takes place when normal gut flora is eradicated by antibiotics,  existed as anything more than an easily treatable bout of thrush

But since, then I’ve been an advocate of various alternative health practices – apple cider vinegar, coconut oil, sugar avoidance, probiotics, kefir, aloe vera juice – all aimed at reducing inflammation in the body; all of which help but never completely heal. I’ve never been faddy, but my experiments with food have proved to me that it has a massive impact on my wellbeing  – that tiredness, mood swings, skin problems and weight are all linked to what I eat. And so, although I’m rarely religious about diets (I was for about a year and enjoyed a cellulite-free year in hot pants and size six jeans) I try and stick to sugar avoidance as a vague rule without advocating self denial.

The links between Jonah’s behaviour and the food he eats is also marked. Sugar, carbs and dairy can send him into a literal tail spin of squirming and jibberish, calmed by supplements of fish oils and probiotics, and by trying to keep a lid on his diet without also turning into a food fanatic. He has to live in this world, as I do, and can be tricky with what he eats – he has a particularly sensitive sense of smell for a start, which mean a lot of foods can seem over-flavoured. And I work full time, so we take short cuts and dole out pacifying sweet treats in the same way as anyone else.

So yesterday, a doctor finally listened to me in all seriousness about my concerns, acknowledged there was mounting evidence to support my claims about the gut-brain connection and how the antibiotics I took to the day I found out I was pregnant, may indeed be linked to the behavioural challenges my son now faces. He offered me counselling for the anger I feel about the situation (not gonna change the fact), and further tests for irritable bowel disorder. There is nothing more he could advise, since a “good diet” for doctors is always a broad set of advice rather than a dictatorial regime, and remains based on an archaic food pyramid that props up the grain and dairy industries, despite increasingly evidence to the contrary for the health of the nation.

So recent research into the benefits of a high fat diet to various brain disorders, such as epilepsy, ASD and depression, as well as for weight loss and general health – even cancer –  has encouraged me to to be more on it, diet-wise particularly in the run up to Christmas. This diet advocates the addition of healthy oils and proteins to the diet while avoiding sugar and processed carbs. Given my own experiences of improved mood and health on an anti-candida diet which follows largely the same principals, and the fact that both kids’ behaviour has notably unravelled on a pre-Christmas diet of chocolate, churros, crisps and fruit juice, I’m going to do my best to tip the balance of their diet towards healthy fats, proteins and veggies and limited sugar – which probably won’t be easy.

I already give the kids fish oils with breakfast, which has degenerated recently from porridge made with water with chia seeds and honey, to Weetabix (not even Weetabix, but Lidl’s own Bixies, which I can comprehensively state are EXACTLY THE SAME but a third of the price) with organic milk, sometimes with probiotics powder snuck on top; or rye toast with peanut butter. It’s quick, cheap and they eat it, which is half the battle, but also supplemented at the moment with Advent chocolates (two calendars’ worth, and perhaps a piece of fruit. Whether of not this early morning intake of high carbs, high dairy and sugar contributes the the inevitable getting-out-the-door tantrum that ensures with relentless monotony.

But this morning, both kids emptied the dishwasher with nerry a fuss, and got their shoes and coats on without nagging. whether or not this angelic transmogrification has anything to do with their breakfast smoothies of blueberries, chia seeds, almond milk, egg (yes, raw – organic) and a big dollop of coconut oil, and stevia to taste, we’ll never know for sure. But I’m pretty sure it helps.

My own efforts to stay trim till Christmas culminated last night in a seemingly naughty but nice meal in Whyte & Brown, under a blanket of fairy lights in Carnaby Street’s Kingly Court. I went with Sam, and his fam to do a pug swap, and ate padron peppers (not salty enough) and two starters of buttermilk chicken goujons (yum) and baked spinach (really yum). It was cheap, cheerful, full fat and filling, and I wasn’t even cold sat outside under a heater, wrapped up as I was in my goat coat. Even supplemented with a glass of vin rouge, which resulted in a 4.00am wake up – when will I learn? – my quarter of the bill came in at under £25 – not bad for a good midweek meal in the centre of Christmas shopping hell.

Now, I just have to convince the kids – and strong-arm Tom into assisting me  – that ditching the sugar and stockpiling on good fats over winter can be equally delicious, and we might be onto a domestic victory in the behaviour stakes –  as well as still fit into my jeans the other side of Christmas.

But when the rest of the world is going to hell in a handcart, it’s tempting to ask, why worry about your jean size anyway?

NB. I will be doing an edited and half-arsed version of this diet. I don’t have the energy, will power and determination to go the whole hog, so I doubt we will see any of the side effects of a high protein, low carb diet, which can include constipation and vitamin deficiencies.

A typical days’ food, shameless nicked of Wikepedia might include:

• Breakfast: egg with bacon
  28 g egg, 11 g bacon, 37 g of 36% heavy whipping cream, 23 g butter and 9 g apple.
• Snack: peanut butter ball
  6 g peanut butter and 9 g butter.
• Lunch: tuna salad
  28 g tuna fish, 30 g mayonnaise, 10 g celery, 36 g of 36% heavy whipping cream and 15 g lettuce.
• Snack: keto yogurt
  18 g of 36% heavy whipping cream, 17 g sour cream, 4 g strawberries and artificial sweetener.
• Dinner: cheeseburger (no bun)
  22 g minced (ground) beef, 10 g American cheese, 26 g butter, 38 g cream, 10 g lettuce and 11 g green beans.
• However, it cautions, the classic ketogenic diet is not a balanced diet and only contains tiny portions of fresh fruit and vegetables, fortified cereals and calcium-rich foods. In particular, the B vitamins, calcium and vitamin D must be artificially supplemented.