This meal choices makes me many things - British, greedy, and happy. But what it also means is that I would be a hopeless celebrity. My dietary choice leaves me amongst the ranks of the Unremarkable, my choice to consume many, many carbohydrates banishes me to the realms of the Distinctly Rotund.
If I had Madonna-esque status, my favourite foods would be wheat grass, grape-seed extract, bee pollen, warm algae infusions and bancha twig tisane. If I'm feeling like a treat, I'd lose myself in a hard-boiled egg.
Mercifully, I might not have Madonna's unbelievable figure, but I do still possess the ability to appreciate good food. I often consider the wonder-woman of the music industry at breakfast time, tucking into her fermented tempah and collard greens. Indeed, I am willing to make the assumption that it has been positively years since Madonna has been confronted by the sight of of a Hob-Nob. I have it on good authority - zealous celebrity food bloggers, naturally - that Madonna sticks to a strictly macrobiotic diet that consists of 50% wholegrains, balanced by a brutal exercise regime. All that yodelling, all those conical bras and morphing hairstyles, and what does she have to show for all her hard work? A plate of macrobiotic sprouts and a cup of laxative tea.
Speaking of 'detox' teas and their various counterparts, I am entirely unable to fathom why people pretend to enjoy the refreshing and restorative properties of green tea, of white tea, of kukicha tea. The only 'refreshing' properties stem from the fact the tea is usually so foul-tasting, that it kick-starts your brain into activity. Such teas veer between being so very bland its like drinking a cup of stale hot water, and being so cringingly bitter you cannot bear to gulp down the final dregs. Manufacturers claim bitterness only occurs when it is left to brew for too long. Excuse me for playing the part of dim-witted, ignorant consumer, but I never asked for my tea to demand so much of me.
Returning to Madonna and her various A-lister peers, we see evidence of celebrities discounting vital food groups all together. Take the actor, Tim Robbins, for example. According to my reliable source - another blogger of celebrity food - everyday out there in sunny California, Robbins starts his day with a bowl of organic oats with almond milk. Because, apparently, "nobody does dairy out here anymore". If you fail to pick up a carton of almond milk at your local branch of Tesco, then see if you can get your hands on any coconut water. It is The Drink of Choice, according to macrobiotic followers Gwyneth Paltrow and Kate Hudson. And to me, another way to ensure that you go about your day in a state of self-induced delirium, half crazed with hunger and misery. Any of form of fluid should definitely be un-cow milk (including rice, soy, macadamia, breast...). Suddenly, milk is no longer confined to the productive - and we can assume, to macrobiotic followers, polluted - abilities of the cow udder. It is my suspecting belief that somewhere near L.A is a high-tech lab facility, in which the scientists are employed soley to provide celebrities with another commodity that is unusual and laced with controversy, which us mere Distinctly Rotund won't get to taste for years. For now, the likes of sardine milk will remain firmly in the capable hands of Madonna's personal chef..
Even snacking has moved beyond the realms of a packet of crisps. Instead, you can indulge in lotus root, umeboshi plums, daikon and wheat berries. If in doubt over how to eat any other normally inedible food stuffs, such as aloe vera, parsley and powdered flaxseed, just blend them. After all, protein shakes are the primary food group in Hollywood. But of course, they're no longer 'on trend' for A-listers because the rest of the world has discovered the benefits...and the side effects of flatulence..
All of this strikes me as maddeningly complicated. You could drive yourself insane, living a life that requires an extensive memory of what is considered an "enzyme inhibitor". In all, such a dietary lifestyle adds up to a truly miserable existence, where half the joy of life that comes from discovering, preparing and eating food is reduced to something limited and as dull as a few pieces of lettuce and some aduki beans. I'd rather be fat and happy any day.
