Last month, as many of you will be aware, Twitter was abuzz with talk of activated almonds.
The ‘activated almonds’ free-for-all first arose following the publication of a Sunday magazine food column. The column is called My day on a plate and details everything a person eats over a 24 hour period. A ‘qualified’ nutritionist then analyses the nutritional value of the reported food choices and offers advice for improvement.
The column that sparked the social media explosion centred on the unique imbibements of Pete Evans, a seven network ‘celebrity chef’. Poor old Pete. Following publication, he became the butt of every joke relating to healthy eating and dieting. He was ridiculed for activating his almonds, alkalising his water and culturing his vegetables. He was vilified for being pretentious and precious about his eating. You can read more about it here.
I am not about to join in on the vitriol. My rants about this column precede the latest hive of activity. Instead, I am interested to know how accurately and truthfully we really report what we eat.
It is very possible that what Pete reported is exactly what he eats everyday of his life. However, I am sceptical. Surely he lets go of the reins some of the time? Does Pete ever mindlessly eat through an entire tub of ice-cream while watching back-to-back episodes of My Kitchen Rules? When Manu brings in a rich gateau on his birthday, does Pete allow himself a sneaky slice? Does Pete sympathise with the emergency dash to the vending machine when there is no other food to be found?
There is a large body of research reviewing how accurately we self-report our personal diets. Much of the evidence suggests that we under-report the number of selections and the quantity of each item we consume.
One research article explores how accurately a selected group of women recorded their food and drink intake in a food diary over the course of a week. The subjects who took part in the study were healthy, middle-aged women, who were part of a separate, ongoing dietary trial.
The results indicated that food and beverage intake was substantially underestimated (by an average of 20 per cent) despite an expectation that the women, who were motivated, of normal weight range and experienced with food recording, would have good accuracy of food recording.
Another research article identifies particular characteristics in women that may predict a greater likelihood of underreporting what they eat and drink. The findings suggest that younger age, negative body image and a “greater propensity to choose a socially desirable answer” (put in simpler words, a greater propensity to lie) lead to underreporting food and beverage intake.
As I write this article, I sip on a cup of tea with honey and munch on a block of top deck chocolate. Yet I ate lunch only 30 mins ago. When I finish writing this article, I am going to the café nearby to get a large hot chocolate with full fat milk. If someone was to ask me what I ate for lunch, I am sure I would innocently omit the sweet beverages and chocolate from my reply.
We all do it.
When you next find yourself reading about the diet virtues of the latest B grade celebrity, take it with a grain of salt. It is highly likely that it is only part of the picture.
