Fasting & Abstinence
March
It's Lent and for the past 3 or 4 years, my daughter and her friend have been prompted to give up crisps for the duration. The first time they attempted it, I stocked up with all sorts of alternative salty snacks such as crackers, nuts and bombay mix. I even toasted cashew nuts and sesame seeds in soy sauce in the oven. This meant that my daughter would go all day at school without crisps then gorge on these alternatives on her return home. I don't think she suffered any hardship at all ! I know this was cheating really, but my intention was to assist her to find a way to change her habits if she wanted to and it seemed to work. She gave up crisps for the whole of lent and didn't rush to eat them as soon as it ended. As far as I was aware, she didn't crave crisps at all.
With each attempt, I have made less and less effort at providing substitutes and this year, she seems to be avoiding crisps with very little effort, although I haven't discussed it with her, not wanting her to become too self-aware about it and possibly break the spell!
I am mindful of my own tendency towards abstinence. I don't think this was the main driver for my vegetarianism, but it certainly facilitated it. I started to think about not eating meat in my late teens when I left home and decided that I could finally take control of my own life. Therein lies the complexity of my impetus ! I had consciously adopted the abstainer's mind when, at about 14, my two closest friends decided to fast every Friday, mainly in order to lose weight. On other days, they would forgo lunch so that they could eat a Mars Bar instead. They adored Mars Bars. I didn't share their craving for chocolate, my preference always being for salty snacks like my daughter, but I decided to join them in their fasting and to my surprise, found it remarkably easy and even pleasurable. I enjoyed the empty sensation and even the light-headedness. This was before the days of bottled water, so I think I did suffer from dehydration, but found myself quite able to go the whole day without waning too much. My mother was complicit, after my explaining about starving children etc and all the moral reasons for not over-eating rather than the truth which was a curiosity about whether I could do it or not. The first thing I would eat on a Saturday morning would be several large pieces of buttered toast, which I wouldn't normaly have thought about eating. However, it is significant that I have a memory of my mother's disapproving glance as I devoured the toast and in that memory is a feeling that she dislikes me eating the toast because she sees it as unhealthy.
Now the history of food in my family is a strange one. We spent the first 6 years of my life living with my Nana and Uncles and the menu for this large family was verging on revolting for me. It was the early sixties and my Nana's recipes and cooking methods grew out of her poverty, exacerbated by rationing and were not intended to delight the senses, but rather to stave off hunger and make use of available ingredients. The adults in my family appreciated every bite of food. I can never remember feeling hungry, but I do remember many incidences when I felt too full. I avoided eating apples, having once been castigated for not finishing one. (No-one thought to chop it in half for me). Meals were carefully planned and the weekly menus varied little, so some days of the week were to be dreaded more than others meal-time wise as far as I was concerned. Whilst the adults tucked into dumpling-topped "scouse" with relish, I would push it around my bowl miserably. Even my Nana's home-baked pies were an anathema to me since her pastry was made with lard. Of course, I didn't know this until I grew up, I just thought I didn't like the taste of pastry.
It got to the stage where I must have been eating next to nothing because I remember my mother and I sitting alone at the table, me with a bowl of oxtail soup in front of me, her gently coaxing me to eat it. Other members of the family would invent favourite foods for me. I remember my dear old dad declaring that I loved cheese during one particularly difficult Sunday dinner-time and proceeded to put cheese, crackers and Pan Yan pickle in front of me in lieu of the tough, indigestible lamb. Of course, I relished the crackers and pickle, but only nibbled the slightly sweaty, limp slices of red leicester kept under a dish in the pantry - fridges were not ubiquitous in those days. My Nana decided I loved "Angel cake", a very dry, plain cake redeemed only by the scattering of delicious caraway seeds on the top. I would eat a couple of slices of this to please her and please her it would, enough for her to dig into her pinny pocket and offer me a coconut mushroom from the bag she always kept there.
Along with my Nana's coconut mushrooms, I also enjoyed the blackcurrants growing in the garden and pickled cauliflower to be found in the jars of mixed pickles which stood permanently in the middle of our dining room table. I did love Pan Yan pickle and would sometimes make sandwiches with it. When we moved into a home of our own, my Dad took to making a cooked Sunday breakfast and would fry lots of bread for me, which I would smother with Daddies brown sauce. I could have eaten a whole loaf of bread that way, but, another interesting memory, my mother would intervene and say that was enough with a disapproving frown at my Dad long before I was satiated.
I can't remember enjoying the whole of any meal at home, even as I got older, and so giving food up seemed to involve little hardship for me. I did get hungry, but I think what I lacked was a real craving for specific foods which seems to hamper anyone trying to diet. It will come as no surprise, therefore, when I confess that my foray into fasting led me inexorably towards becoming anorexic for a while. And therein lies another tale..................
As the chocolate fest that is Easter draws nigh, with all my years of antipathy towards food behind me, I relish the thought of lots of children gorging greedily on chocolate and thoroughly enjoying it. And although my health-conscious offspring will not do that this year because we've agreed to only get one, albeit large one, each, I do hope they will savour that lovely rich, satisfying food and feel happy. I also look forward to my daughter eating a bag of crisps and hopefully thinking they're nice, but I can do without them if I want !
I am mindful of my own tendency towards abstinence. I don't think this was the main driver for my vegetarianism, but it certainly facilitated it. I started to think about not eating meat in my late teens when I left home and decided that I could finally take control of my own life. Therein lies the complexity of my impetus ! I had consciously adopted the abstainer's mind when, at about 14, my two closest friends decided to fast every Friday, mainly in order to lose weight. On other days, they would forgo lunch so that they could eat a Mars Bar instead. They adored Mars Bars. I didn't share their craving for chocolate, my preference always being for salty snacks like my daughter, but I decided to join them in their fasting and to my surprise, found it remarkably easy and even pleasurable. I enjoyed the empty sensation and even the light-headedness. This was before the days of bottled water, so I think I did suffer from dehydration, but found myself quite able to go the whole day without waning too much. My mother was complicit, after my explaining about starving children etc and all the moral reasons for not over-eating rather than the truth which was a curiosity about whether I could do it or not. The first thing I would eat on a Saturday morning would be several large pieces of buttered toast, which I wouldn't normaly have thought about eating. However, it is significant that I have a memory of my mother's disapproving glance as I devoured the toast and in that memory is a feeling that she dislikes me eating the toast because she sees it as unhealthy.
Now the history of food in my family is a strange one. We spent the first 6 years of my life living with my Nana and Uncles and the menu for this large family was verging on revolting for me. It was the early sixties and my Nana's recipes and cooking methods grew out of her poverty, exacerbated by rationing and were not intended to delight the senses, but rather to stave off hunger and make use of available ingredients. The adults in my family appreciated every bite of food. I can never remember feeling hungry, but I do remember many incidences when I felt too full. I avoided eating apples, having once been castigated for not finishing one. (No-one thought to chop it in half for me). Meals were carefully planned and the weekly menus varied little, so some days of the week were to be dreaded more than others meal-time wise as far as I was concerned. Whilst the adults tucked into dumpling-topped "scouse" with relish, I would push it around my bowl miserably. Even my Nana's home-baked pies were an anathema to me since her pastry was made with lard. Of course, I didn't know this until I grew up, I just thought I didn't like the taste of pastry.
It got to the stage where I must have been eating next to nothing because I remember my mother and I sitting alone at the table, me with a bowl of oxtail soup in front of me, her gently coaxing me to eat it. Other members of the family would invent favourite foods for me. I remember my dear old dad declaring that I loved cheese during one particularly difficult Sunday dinner-time and proceeded to put cheese, crackers and Pan Yan pickle in front of me in lieu of the tough, indigestible lamb. Of course, I relished the crackers and pickle, but only nibbled the slightly sweaty, limp slices of red leicester kept under a dish in the pantry - fridges were not ubiquitous in those days. My Nana decided I loved "Angel cake", a very dry, plain cake redeemed only by the scattering of delicious caraway seeds on the top. I would eat a couple of slices of this to please her and please her it would, enough for her to dig into her pinny pocket and offer me a coconut mushroom from the bag she always kept there.
Along with my Nana's coconut mushrooms, I also enjoyed the blackcurrants growing in the garden and pickled cauliflower to be found in the jars of mixed pickles which stood permanently in the middle of our dining room table. I did love Pan Yan pickle and would sometimes make sandwiches with it. When we moved into a home of our own, my Dad took to making a cooked Sunday breakfast and would fry lots of bread for me, which I would smother with Daddies brown sauce. I could have eaten a whole loaf of bread that way, but, another interesting memory, my mother would intervene and say that was enough with a disapproving frown at my Dad long before I was satiated.
I can't remember enjoying the whole of any meal at home, even as I got older, and so giving food up seemed to involve little hardship for me. I did get hungry, but I think what I lacked was a real craving for specific foods which seems to hamper anyone trying to diet. It will come as no surprise, therefore, when I confess that my foray into fasting led me inexorably towards becoming anorexic for a while. And therein lies another tale..................
As the chocolate fest that is Easter draws nigh, with all my years of antipathy towards food behind me, I relish the thought of lots of children gorging greedily on chocolate and thoroughly enjoying it. And although my health-conscious offspring will not do that this year because we've agreed to only get one, albeit large one, each, I do hope they will savour that lovely rich, satisfying food and feel happy. I also look forward to my daughter eating a bag of crisps and hopefully thinking they're nice, but I can do without them if I want !
