Some food for thought

As I write, I am enjoying a mug of freshly brewed coffee. This is because (a) I enjoy good coffee, and always grind my own beans before infusing, and (b) it’s early in the morning and coffee provides a little impetus after I’ve greeted the day with my very early tea. And although I’m delighted that drinking coffee seems to reduce the risk of diabetes and I do only consume it before, say, 2.30 in the afternoon, this mugful is not being consumed with a view to living longer. But I’ll come back to that.

Despite the ravings of a megalomaniac billionaire, I’m still hanging in there on Twitter (which I refuse to call X) as it’s still a reasonable source of news, provided you’re selective, and I have more than 40,000 followers from whose feeds I don’t want to disappear. Oh, and I have blocked over 4,000 unpleasant people; this is essential for keeping Twitter smelling moderately sweet. I am, however, dipping rather more than a toe into the delightfully fragrant Bluesky. This I strongly recommend if you enjoy civility.

Anyway, on both of these platforms I responded to a certain recent health story with the banner headline ‘Ursine Defecation in Sylvan Environments Does Actually Happen, Confirms Study’.

This strikes me as the only reasonable response to a claim by Tufts University in the US that the consumption of sugary drinks is linked to diabetes. Back in 2016 a Swedish study found that drinking two or more fizzy drinks, sugary or diet versions, more than doubled the risk of developing type 2 diabetes. My response, on Twitter at the time, was “cacatne ursus in silvis?”. I mean you have to use your classical education somehow. And it was a favourite line of my old friend, the late Paolo Tullio.

In other startlingly obvious news, it has been suggested that the programme of hot meals for national school children is not doing the little ones much good because, in many cases, the dishes are loaded with UPFs (ultra-processed foods). Ruth Hegarty, lecturer in food policy at University College Cork, examined the nutritional content of the meals offered under the scheme.

She told The Irish Times: “One of the meals I looked at was chicken curry and rice. You would think that’s pretty straightforward, but there were around 75 ingredients in that particular meal. These include processing aids and additives like sodium citrate, dextrose, xylitol, maltodextrin, and modified starch.”

She continued: “These kinds of additives, especially in their combination and through regular consumption, are disease-promoting and contribute to creating a UPF-based diet for children. What’s really terrifying is that we are now institutionalising consumption of UPFs.”

It appears that schools are tasked with sourcing the meals with insufficient Government oversight of compliance with nutritional standards. I suspect that the Government’s over-arching consideration was cost and that ensuring good nutrition was much less of a consideration.

A friend of mine who lives in France tells me that on one day recently in her local primary school, lunch comprised a dressed salad of cucumber and tomato followed by veal cooked with mushrooms with broccoli on the side, then cheese with sliced baguette followed by an individual apple tart. To drink: Unlimited water. Add a glass of Beaujolais and I’d pay handsomely for this.

Of course, the French have never regarded food as mere fuel. It’s nutrition and communion and ritual and punctuation of the day. There’s a concern with quality, with balance, with a sense of sharing.

Having said that, a 2021 survey showed that French men consumed 11.4 per cent of their diet in the form of UPFs, French women 10.3 per cent. Irish men consumed 13.2 per cent, Irish women 13.4 per cent. Figures for our neighbours in the UK were 18.3 per cent and 17.2 per cent. Italy had amongst the lowest rates of UPF intake at 6.4 per cent and 6.2 per cent, Sweden being way out ahead at 22.9 per cent and 20.9 per cent (Eur J Nutr 2021 Dec 3;61(3):1521-1539. doi: 10.1007/s00394-021-02733-)

France likes to think of itself as the food capital of Europe, but there are concerns there that fast food is taking over and that the old ways are in danger of being lost, including the very civilised tradition of taking plenty of time over lunch and only a modicum of wine. According to a Nielsen report, consumption of wine in France dropped by more than 90 per cent between 1970 and 2024, with younger consumers choosing other forms of alcohol or avoiding the stuff entirely. In Ireland, our overall consumption of alcohol has reduced by almost one-third over the past two decades. However, our enthusiasm for wine seems to be growing slightly after a drop during the pandemic followed by a period of stagnation.

But frankly we are in the ha’penny place for wine consumption per capita compared to our European neighbours. We drink a little over 2.8 litres per head per annum compared to the French with 46 litres – just imagine what it was like in 1970! – and the Portuguese with their staggering consumption of very nearly 62 litres. Our UK neighbours put away 19.6 litres per head last year. Of course, in Ireland we have a tradition of using duty and VAT to stamp out this foreign tendency to drink wine – and we proudly have the highest rates of both, by far, in the EU.

In terms of excise, a standard bottle of wine in Ireland is charged at €3.19, in France it’s €0.03. In Spain, Portugal, Italy, Germany, and several other countries in the EU, it’s zero. Incidentally, the UK’s rate has almost caught up with ours, at €3.16.

But back to coffee. In a recent paper published in the European Heart Journal it is claimed that people who drink coffee daily, but only in the morning, have 16 per cent less risk of dying “from any cause”.

So, if you want a stab at immortality, you know what to do.