Gradual return of the chipolata
As I write I am coming to the end of four weeks on the Jane Plan diet. Iāve lost about two thirds of my eventual target and Iām now back to how I was early in 2022 when I returned from Hong Kong. It wasnāt many kg but it was enough and seemed completely unttainable. A month ago, as I disgusted myself by inhaling Percy Pigs on long car journeys to Norfolk and Oxford, I never thought I had the willpower to lose even this amount of weight, so Iām pretty proud of myself. My pre-large wardrobe now fits nicely and I feel so much better.
Iām now going to take a little break, and work out what works in the longer term for me. Iāll try not to regain all that I have lost in the space of a couple of days, like I did with that crazy juice detox last year, and then go back on the diet again just in time for Christmas to arrive and trample it with its cinnamon-flavoured steel-toed boots.
Jane Plan basically works on calorie deficit by portion control. Youāll stick a little single-use plastic pot in the microwave and mask the fact that it contains about 20 rice grains and a couple of shavings of meat or tuna or whatever by adding a shedload of green veg or salad on a side plate. Very small side plates are essential. (Iām researching dolly tea sets as I write.) Itās effective because youāre more or less spoonfed (literally) and you donāt have the aggravation of all the planning, shopping and batch cooking. Itās a diet for people who canāt be doing with diets. Me, then.
Several of the meals are quite tasty: Iām singling out the chicken with coconut and turmeric; the Italian style pork meatballs and the Massaman pork curry. Others are less of a delight. Iāll be avoiding the soggy, flaccid pasta in future. There is rather too much sauce in many of the little sous-vide packets. Water is filling and calorie-free, I guess.
What have I learned in the last four weeks?
- That my correct portion of brown rice is 25g before you cook it, about half of what looks about right;
- That you eat small portions more mindfully and probably appreciate them more because of that. Itās demure.
- Opening a pot of even 0% fat yoghurt has the same effect on Fergus as opening a family bag of crisps: he comes running from the garden to lick the spoon;
- That skimmed milk froths up much better than semi-skimmed and I now actually prefer it in tea though I found it minging at first.
- That even my daily dog walk can give me extra spare calories to play with;
- That adding a few grains of sea salt to a little tomato and cucumber side salad can add half a kilogramme of bloat water to the next morningās weigh-in;
- That being forced to eat ready meals for a month has made me look forward to cooking something decent from scratch. I donāt think itās coincidental that I have signed up to the Mob recipe club in the last week. Mob gives recipes that young, modern people like to eat, I gather.
Am I hungry? Yes, though not painfully so. Though itās not a bad thing to remember what hunger feels like, within reason. Yes, Iām checking my privilege here. Ironic, isnāt it, that so many have not enough calories and here I am having to restrict mine.
I am LOnGInG for sourdough toast and olive oil crostini and roast lamb and an undiluted glass of Gigondas. Obviously Iām now consigned to the dubious status of yo-yo dieter but, famously, so is Nigella and sheās looking pretty good on it. James pointed out that most of us are yo-yo dieters in any case. I prefer to call it tweaking my zen. If you enjoy food, if itās a sensual pleasure, you canāt just have it ripped away like an arm. The main thing is that I now know what to do when I start feeling like a Kennedyās sausage in my clothes.
Relatedly, here is what I made in a baking frenzy late on Wednesday night: four trays of blackberry and apple crumble from Nanthiniās Bramleys and brambles salvaged from our Norfolk garden overhaul. I had a tiny taste and it was delicious. Just that beautiful colour is enough to get passionate about, donāt you think?
Instagram chef
Also relatedly: Catch the account of Jean Piquant on the Gram. Iām mesmerised by his reels, largely by his Quebecois delivery, but also by the food, which is possibly about as far away from a calorie-controlled diet as you can get. But itās fall in Quebec and it will be cold soon. Time to stock up on the carbs.
Iāve been up in Norfolk this week, just for a couple of days. What started out as āThis is lovely. We could have a place up here. Oh, hereās one and it doesnāt need anything major, just a lick of paint,ā has become a major rejuvenation project. This week I was talking to bathroom specialists: we have a cloakroom and shower room downstairs and an upstairs ensuite to renovate. We had to book our work weeks 8 months in advance and itās now going to be a late start in November but it will be lovely when itās finished, I hope. In the meantime, here are ruminants of some sort, ruminating.
I have finally left Twitter, you guys!
This week I finally deactivated by Twitter account. Thatās it. Pooof! Gone in less than a second after fifteen and a half years and almost 9,000 followers at its peak. I hadnāt posted for a month, and just taking the briefest of peeks was enough to make me start to hyperventilate, my shoulders instantly rising.
Why did it take me so long? Usual reasons: the real friends I made on there, some of whom havenāt moved to Threads/Bluesky and whom Iāll miss, of course. I also held on for political reasons. A Twitter feed is probably important for campaigning. And then there was the charity whose local feed I ran for a while.
When a multi-billionaire takes over the voice of millions to make it his own mouthpiece from which he can undermine democracy and encourage and cheer-lead populist hatred, itās time to stand up and say that you no longer want to be associated with it. I know some people are staying āto fightā but, with respect, fight for what? You and your small account against Melon and his bot battalions? Good luck with that.
For me, Threads is a little parochial and in danger of going the same way as Twitter in its spite and rage baiting. I find Bluesky much more interesting now, and it seems to be the place for informed and rational discussion. It also has an excellent and lively #TheArchers feed both nightly and for the omni, so thatās where Iāll take myself from now.
Heavy sigh
Look, Iāve been in two minds whether to share this Insta video but here goes:
No cap, I find myself increasingly irritated by this corporate bandwagon of producing Gram videos āas if written by Gen Z interns,ā with older people saying those odd words, deadpan. Itās big yikes and not rizz. It doesnāt slay. Itās giving annoyance. To be fair to Holkham Hall above, there is a certain fascination about their Anglian hybrid accents. Many others donāt make any sense at all.
Itās either a knowing joke thatās basic or itās misplaced irony. No-one over 20 understands you. If I want that, Iāll go onto TikTok. No. Stop it!
Iāll be here next week. In the meantime, make sure you have some fun!
G x
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