Eaten up by food fears

We have a strange relationship with food, eating too much half the time, then belatedly panicking about what we are putting in our mouths.

It's almost obligatory to have an intolerance or allergy: if it's not wheat or gluten, it's milk and dairy. And if you fancy washing down all that gut-irritating food, you could always put a caffeine bullet to your brain and have a nice cup of coffee (one of my favourite treats, so long as it's the proper stuff).

All this worrying about food suggests the fretful navel-gazing of the relatively prosperous. Food didn't make people ill or anxious when there was less to go round. Now, comparatively speaking, we are wealthier and better fed, or at least eating more - yet we aren't happy or healthy.

Partly, this is because too many people eat too much rubbish. A little bit of rubbish is fine, but too much will set your body complaining.

Yet there is a paradox here: food information is everywhere, from the small-print on the side of the packet to all those foodie programmes on television, and tempting recipes in the newspapers.

We are better informed, tantalised from all directions - yet weightier by the day.

A number of food stories sent the mental marbles clicking this week.

First up was Ida Mary Goodrick in this newspaper's Diary, airing another of her tirades about the ills of modern life. On this occasion, she set herself against the food processor, while singing a hymn to the humble wooden spoon.

Ida Mary's thoughts were followed up in the Diary by York cook Ann Cruickshank, who said the problem was that "the nation cannot cook, never mind bake". Ann recalled her mother's baking days, when the family kitchen produced "cakes, tarts, apple pies and other goodies".

These two culinary mentions arrived when food was back at the top of the daily agenda. And when food is making the headlines, your stomach is unlikely to settle.

The Sudan 1 scandal is a typical modern scare story, in that we all end up feeling properly frightened, while not understanding the scale of the problem, at least in statistical terms.

Certainly it should alarm us that a carcinogenic dye, Sudan 1, has leeched into the nation's diet. Yet how scared should we be on a scale of one to get-me-out-of-here?

There is a lack of hard statistical comparison. Is eating food containing traces of Sudan 1 more or less dangerous than, say, walking home after a couple of pints or beer? Or driving on a motorway? Or travelling by train or plane? Or listening to politicians gearing up their mouths for the election (that can't be good for the heart or nerves)?

More frightening still to recall the swift way this ingredient entered the food chain, infecting so many different foods with virus-like enthusiasm.

Dull-looking chilli powder produced in India was mixed with Sudan 1 to brighten its appearance and this adulterated powder found its way into hundreds of convenience foods sold at British supermarkets, from cheaper dishes to more expensive treats.

You don't have to be a paranoid muncher of microwave meals to worry that one rogue ingredient could spread itself about so much. Just imagine if a terrorist tampered with such a common ingredient. How long would it be before the supermarkets stopped counting their profits to notice?

The other food story worthy of note is Jamie Oliver's campaign to improve school dinners, via his TV series, Jamie's School Dinners. The chef's discovery that some schools feed pupils on 37 pence a head is a statistic to shame us all.

It costs more than that to feed our cat.

Jamie is fired up about this. Forget the swearing and listen to what he's saying.

In our house, home cooking is mostly the norm (only occasionally thanks to me).

Yet constant cooking brings its own problems, being hard work, tedious and a grind.

The easy answer is to grab a frozen pizza, which is just the thing, so long as polystyrene frisbees splattered in cheap tomato paste are to your taste.

What's the answer?

I'm still chewing on that one.

Updated: 08:50 Thursday, March 03, 2005