Jade and Food: The Ultimate Tragic Love Story

So, I was a fat kid and to make it worse I was tall fat kid, i.e. I was practically a monster.

This is due to a combination of two things.

First of all, naturally I have an addictive personality, so everything I do I give it at least 150% or nothing at all. For example, three weeks ago I watched five seasons of Game of Thrones in five days just because once I started I just couldn’t stop. Unfortunately, this borderline aggressive passion I have for anything I put my mind to, also transcends to my love of food. Once I find something I love I binge on it. This does include vegetables, specifically broccoli, carrots and sweetcorn but more importantly this includes desserts.

And I mean all desserts.

From cakes, to pies, to mousse, to any baked good with sugar. Particularly the strawberry tart from Paul French Bakery; the crème patisserie topped with the glazed strawberries all nestled within the crisp pastry actually makes my heart sing. Now, while a sane person would buy one and tuck in when they get home, snuggled on the sofa. I instead buy four and scoff two down while standing on the train home, one when I get back then the fourth to cheer me up because I feel fat for eating the other three. Even when I’m at uni where there’s not a Paul’s nearby, I settle for Jammie Dodgers and scoff down a family pack instead, then call my mum afterwards when I feel ill. Yes, I’m 19 and yes I still make the same mistake at least once every month. So saying this is an unhealthy relationship physically and mentally is an understatement.

The first time I tasted cake 

Second reason why I was a fat kid is because I didn’t like “proper food”. Before I discovered cooking at the age of 12 (shout out to Saturday Kitchen Live), I was a fussy eater and probably the bane of my full-time working single mum. I had all these rules I made up in my head, such as I can’t eat the meal twice in a row meaning no left-overs (still do this), my food couldn’t touch, ready-meals made me feel sick (still don't like them) and didn’t like milk for breakfast so no cereal (turns out I’m lactose-intolerant). This led to a lot of early morning shouting and me missing breakfast but still being hungry, thus the worst eating habits I’ve ever had were born. First it started with a steak bake and sprinkle donut from Greggs every morning before school, followed by a bacon roll at break, pizza and chips for lunch and then McDonalds on the way home. Luckily thanks to genetics I wasn’t a spotty teen but the weight did pile on until one day I looked down and saw a massive belly and I was reliant on my asthma pump to get up the stairs.

This is when it really gets bad.

At 14 I went on a strict no-cards diet (against my mum’s advice) except for porridge in the mornings teamed with a 40 minute run or cycle every day after school. When the weight dropped off I got a belly piercing when I was 15 and if everything went according to plan that would have been the end. But nope, instead even at my skinniest I was unhappy.

That Christmas we went to visit my auntie in San Francisco and I discovered pound cake. Pound cake has a 1lb of each of butter, sugar, flour and eggs. I’m literally salivating at the memory of that cake. It was from a Safeway only 4 blocks from my auntie’s house. It was baked in a bunt tin, piss cheap only about $5 and my best friend. The scoffablility of that cake is still unmatched to this day, no matter how much I ate I never felt sick. So, by the time I came back I was nearly at 14-year-old-Jade fat but now with boobs and a small, but still present bum, it didn’t look as bad.

Anyway fast forward four years later to now, I’m still in a passionate love affair with all things dessert so the weight/self control issue is still a thing. Current solution: meal prep paired with no snacks in the house. The idea being that until I can practice self-control, out of sight out of mind is the way to go. So far it’s been relatively easy, except the other day, my neighbour bought me Tesco Finest Victoria Sponge to say thank you for looking after her plants and I scoffed it all down in two days. However, old me would have scoffed it down in one day so there’s progress at least. It’s also hard when eating out because I always choose a burger or ribs over salad with a decadent desert but the other day I had pho with still lemonade as dessert so again progress.

Am I ever going to break it off with cake? Nope.

But hopefully I can reduce the relationship to a bi-annually rendezvous.

Ok. Bye