A golden rule I have observed throughout my life is this: never have anything green for breakfast. To my delight, one of my favourite broadcasters, the great Mark Radcliffe, says exactly the same thing. Part of it could be that the Full English, as we refer to the traditional fry-up, is considered by its very nature to be unhealthy, so why would you even think of contaminating it by adding something healthy? I won’t even have baked beans on my breakfasts, never mind anything green, although I do enjoy a mushroom or two because they fit in so nicely. I’m afraid my aversion to vegetables in general goes far deeper than just the Full English.
The main reason I eat vegetables at all is because my partner says they are good for me. I did not discover Broccoli until I was in my thirties, Kale much later than that. I do not look forward to eating them and if the truth be known as soon as they arrive on my dinner plate my first thought is “that doesn’t look very nice”, my second is “I’ll eat them as quickly as possible in order to move on to the tastier, less healthy items”, like a slice of dead animal and roast potatoes, preferably cooked in beef dripping.
I do like some types of vegetables, my favourite being frozen peas, which are at their best when cooked. I don’t particularly mind tinned garden peas, which I grew up eating on the rare occasions my mum could afford to buy vegetables. Looking back, I suppose it was the only good side to being brought up in poverty. No cabbage, carrots, swede and other such filth. In fact, I would happily have frozen peas with pretty well any type of meal at all. If only we had a freezer, or a fridge for that matter, in my formative years.
It’s stretching things a little to say that there are, beyond peas, vegetables that I actually like. I will eat sprouts and cauliflower, preferably when all the goodness – that is to say the crispiness – has been boiled out of them. At that point, as with many meals, I can smother the veg in gravy. If I close my eyes, I can almost convince myself that the veg tastes nice. Actually, it doesn’t, not compared to the meat and potato aspect.
I do know that is an actual fact that things that don’t look nice and taste disgusting are good for you. Why else would anyone eat the so called fruit of the sea? Whoever looked at a spiny lobster, or a crab, and thought: “God, that looks really tasty!” I find the same thing with vegetables. Confronted with something like kale, all I see is garden waste, some form of weed. When I taste kale, I can only conclude that it not only looks like weed, it tastes like it, too.
My dislike of most vegetables reduces the chances that I shall step onto the moral high ground and become a vegetarian, or even a vegan. I know that if I did, I might not live longer but it would certainly feel like it. As things stand, I am having to come up with various workarounds to ensure I do actually consume things that are healthy, like smuggling bits of vegetable into my cottage pie or being force-fed healthy vegetables by my long-suffering partner. The only reason I do eat as much veg as I do is because I fear reprisals. Eating things that don’t taste very nice is a small price to pay when compared to the alternative, which could be a long, messy divorce and even homelessness. Even a veg-free world as part of the latter doesn’t appeal.
The “nothing green for breakfast” rule will remain and, if I ever become King, I will ensure it becomes law. I shall persevere with vegetables in order to be less unhealthy and to keep the peace. If someone could come up with a daily tablet providing the same positive effects of vegetables, I’m all ears. Roast beef, Yorkshire Pudding, Roast potatoes and gravy sounds a perfect combination to me. Why spoil it all with vegetables? You’d never do it with your bacon, sausage, black pudding, mushrooms and fried bread, would you?
