Day 12
Then: 220 pounds (15 stones 10 pounds)
Now: 208 pounds (14 stones 12 pounds)
Lost: 12 pounds
This North East diet has taken just 11 days to lose 12 pounds. The Dukan Diet took me 22 days to reach the same level.
It's not just quick weight loss that makes our homemade North East diet twice as effective as the one that's made Dr Dukan a millionaire. It's the fact that, unlike last time, I've been allowed a wide variety of delicious and interesting recipes, including plenty of good carbs.
I feel alive rather than permanently tired; I haven't turned green; and, most of all, I don't feel remotely hungry.
Dukan made me exhausted, irritable, with constant cravings and by this stage Jo was really worried about the colour of my skin, an indication that his diet wasn't properly balanced. This one clearly is.
So, for anyone who wants to lose a lot of weight very quickly, I really recommend you follow our recipes over the last 12 days. For those who've just joined this blog, spin down to April 1st 2013: that's when it all began.
I'm carrying on at this rate for the next few days until I've lost a stone in total (14 pounds), then I shall be slowing down the rate of loss by adding a little fruit, more fat and perhaps some alcohol to the diet. I intended to reach 200 pounds (a loss of 20 pounds) by the end of the month - still a further two pounds a week.
Then I shall stabilise at that level and eat relatively carefully through the summer. If I persevere, who knows where I shall end up.
Today it was Fruyo for breakfast (I'm kind of hooked on this delicious Greek yoghurt: it comes in peach and vanilla) and slices of my delicious home-roasted turkey breast for lunch.
However, last night we fell off the diet big time. We knew it was coming: another dinner party with friends that was arranged months ago.
Our hosts served quite North East diet-friendly food: a light soup, and tuna with rice (which I left on the plate). But then a rhubarb trifle arrived.
You can't ignore a rhubarb trifle, or any dessert at a dinner party thrown by people you really like. You certainly can't reject it: that would be too rude after they have gone to all that trouble. And you can't just have a spoonful and leave the rest, as you can in a restaurant, for they'd be sure you didn't like it, however much you protested that it was down to your diet. So there was nothing for it but to eat the lot. Jo did too, and pronounced it quite the nicest pudding she'd ever tried.
Naturally, my generous host poured alcohol into my glass all night: from champagne when we arrived, fine white wine, dessert wine with the trifle, and armagnac. Jo drove home. This is going to be a disaster.
Based on last Saturday's experience, I don't expect an immediate increase in weight, but I do expect a substantial increase in my appetite cravings - that's the effect of the alcohol and fruit and cream in the trifle. But at least I know that this diet can cope with the blip, as it did last week. Even if this blip was enormous, I am determined to stay strong.
Showing posts with label The Dukan Diet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Dukan Diet. Show all posts
Friday, April 12, 2013
Monday, April 1, 2013
The North East Diet - Rules and Lettuce Wraps
Day 1
Now: 220lbs (15st 10lbs)
For the next few weeks, this blog is taking on a new and very practical tone.
No florid prose, no amusing anecdotes of life in our rather chaotic household. Frivolity is suspended; for this is serious stuff. We are losing between 8 and 13 pounds in the next 14 days. "Are": note the confident language.
Jo is organising our menu, and when Jo gets in an organisational mood, she means business.
Having scoured the internet for ideas, she's been to Waitrose and raided the shop for anything that could vaguely be both tasty and fat free. To my surprise, rather than the small plastic bag I came back with for start of the Dukan Diet - basically a ton of pre-cooked chicken, some oatmeal and 100 Activia non-fat yoghurts, Jo returned with a car-load of goodies.
We have already established five rules for our North East diet (which is, I guess, a Geordie version of the South Beach diet, designed for colder shores):
Rule 1: No bread or pasta
Rule 2: As much protein as we feel we need, and as little fat as we can bear
Rule 3: Enough good carbs to make us feel good, and no more.
Rule 4: Strictly no alcohol for the first fortnight
Rule 5: Our diet must be enjoyable and satisfying
I rather suspect that rules 4 and 5 will quickly counteract each other, but I'm prepared to give this new, invented, diet a go. It's got to be better than Dukan.
Jo says that the problem with Dukan was that I became not only moody and irritable (apart from the first 48 hours, when I was strangely and scarily euphoric as my body began to rebel against its appalling treatment), but I quickly turned green from the lack of a proper diet. She was worried I would drop down dead.
So this time, she wants to balance our meals, but to still encourage fat burning. Whatever that means.
We started with a late breakfast:
The trick is to drizzle the boiled eggs with Cholulah. Anything can be made to taste good with this spicy Mexican pepper sauce, even plain eggs and sliced turkey. The broccoli, carrot and sugar snaps were steamed and crunchy. The whole, with an ample sprinkling of ground pepper was surprisingly filling.
Then, at lunchtime, Jo brought out her secret weapon:
Fat free authentic Greek flavoured yoghurt hasn't been available in UK stores until recently. This fruyo brand is absolutely delicious. Of course "fat free" doesn't mean "not fat making". Quite the opposite. Unlike Activia and the other zero-fat brands, this one contains sugar. A good 20 grams-worth in each pot. But I prefer this to the unpleasant chemical taste of aspartame, which is the sugar substitute most brands use. And, despite the sugar, each pot only has 170 calories, even with a generous amount of peach inside. We allowed the peach version, even though our diet is really not supposed to have fruit for the first week. Together with six almonds, one pot completely filled me up, which is more than could ever be said for Activia. So much so that I decided to spend the afternoon gardening.
I know I said this would be factual, not anecdotal, but the fact that I did some serious physical work for the next three or four hours is a tribute to the slow energy release capabilities of fruyo yoghurt. I didn't once come indoors, either for a cup of tea, or to steal one of Izzy's Easter eggs. And that's not like me at all.
So, as the sun set, I was still quite spritely when Jo called me in for supper, our first proper meal of the day. Except that as soon as I reached the kitchen, I had the most overwhelming urge to have a cold beer. It was the only thing that would quench my thirst and restore my energy level. Well, that was my excuse.
Jo and I discussed it. "If you really want a beer, you should have one," she finally said. So we wrote an amendment to Rule 4. It now reads:
Rule 4: No alcohol for the first fortnight unless you're really worn out with physical exercise, and then only one cold beer.
That just about justified it, but I still felt guilty. All forgotten, though, when Jo produced her perfect first dinner:
She fried some shallots, garlic, and loads of ginger in a small amount of groundnut/peanut oil, then added 1lb of minced turkey, a good squirt of thai fish sauce and thai chilli sauce, and some quality soy (I only keep organic Tamari soy sauce in the house). She added a tablespoon of fresh chopped coriander, some sliced radish, and that was that. All served in fresh iceberg lettuce, with a small plate of broccoli on the side. She said I could eat as much as I wanted. After all that gardening, I ate four. Can't wait for the weigh-in tomorrow.
Now: 220lbs (15st 10lbs)
For the next few weeks, this blog is taking on a new and very practical tone.
No florid prose, no amusing anecdotes of life in our rather chaotic household. Frivolity is suspended; for this is serious stuff. We are losing between 8 and 13 pounds in the next 14 days. "Are": note the confident language.
Jo is organising our menu, and when Jo gets in an organisational mood, she means business.
Having scoured the internet for ideas, she's been to Waitrose and raided the shop for anything that could vaguely be both tasty and fat free. To my surprise, rather than the small plastic bag I came back with for start of the Dukan Diet - basically a ton of pre-cooked chicken, some oatmeal and 100 Activia non-fat yoghurts, Jo returned with a car-load of goodies.
We have already established five rules for our North East diet (which is, I guess, a Geordie version of the South Beach diet, designed for colder shores):
Rule 1: No bread or pasta
Rule 2: As much protein as we feel we need, and as little fat as we can bear
Rule 3: Enough good carbs to make us feel good, and no more.
Rule 4: Strictly no alcohol for the first fortnight
Rule 5: Our diet must be enjoyable and satisfying
I rather suspect that rules 4 and 5 will quickly counteract each other, but I'm prepared to give this new, invented, diet a go. It's got to be better than Dukan.
Jo says that the problem with Dukan was that I became not only moody and irritable (apart from the first 48 hours, when I was strangely and scarily euphoric as my body began to rebel against its appalling treatment), but I quickly turned green from the lack of a proper diet. She was worried I would drop down dead.
So this time, she wants to balance our meals, but to still encourage fat burning. Whatever that means.
We started with a late breakfast:
 |
| Breakfast: Day One |
Then, at lunchtime, Jo brought out her secret weapon:
 |
| Secret Weapon: lunch |
Fat free authentic Greek flavoured yoghurt hasn't been available in UK stores until recently. This fruyo brand is absolutely delicious. Of course "fat free" doesn't mean "not fat making". Quite the opposite. Unlike Activia and the other zero-fat brands, this one contains sugar. A good 20 grams-worth in each pot. But I prefer this to the unpleasant chemical taste of aspartame, which is the sugar substitute most brands use. And, despite the sugar, each pot only has 170 calories, even with a generous amount of peach inside. We allowed the peach version, even though our diet is really not supposed to have fruit for the first week. Together with six almonds, one pot completely filled me up, which is more than could ever be said for Activia. So much so that I decided to spend the afternoon gardening.
I know I said this would be factual, not anecdotal, but the fact that I did some serious physical work for the next three or four hours is a tribute to the slow energy release capabilities of fruyo yoghurt. I didn't once come indoors, either for a cup of tea, or to steal one of Izzy's Easter eggs. And that's not like me at all.
So, as the sun set, I was still quite spritely when Jo called me in for supper, our first proper meal of the day. Except that as soon as I reached the kitchen, I had the most overwhelming urge to have a cold beer. It was the only thing that would quench my thirst and restore my energy level. Well, that was my excuse.
Jo and I discussed it. "If you really want a beer, you should have one," she finally said. So we wrote an amendment to Rule 4. It now reads:
Rule 4: No alcohol for the first fortnight unless you're really worn out with physical exercise, and then only one cold beer.
That just about justified it, but I still felt guilty. All forgotten, though, when Jo produced her perfect first dinner:
 |
| Dinner: lettuce wraps with spicy minced turkey and cashews |
She fried some shallots, garlic, and loads of ginger in a small amount of groundnut/peanut oil, then added 1lb of minced turkey, a good squirt of thai fish sauce and thai chilli sauce, and some quality soy (I only keep organic Tamari soy sauce in the house). She added a tablespoon of fresh chopped coriander, some sliced radish, and that was that. All served in fresh iceberg lettuce, with a small plate of broccoli on the side. She said I could eat as much as I wanted. After all that gardening, I ate four. Can't wait for the weigh-in tomorrow.Saturday, August 21, 2010
Picture Perfect: The Last Post
Day 64
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215lbs)
Now: 13 stone 13 pounds (195 lbs)
Well, it’s actually far from perfect, but rather better than I looked two months and 20 pounds ago. Here’s the proof:
It was a close run finish. Dr Dukan always conceded that followers of his diet regime might need a little wholewheat to get the system moving from time to time. He’s not kidding. I rather panicked at the last moment because I weighed myself last night and was still well over a pound short of the target. I suspected this was because of the constipation caused by my relentless diet of morning cardboard (see recipe in an earlier posting) and dry lunchtime chicken. However much fresh garden salad I consumed, nothing shifted the bloating.
So I opened my first loaf of bread since June and it did its stuff within half an hour. Sorry to be so basic, but they say blogs should be truthful – and some of you have shared this journey with me for the whole 64 days, and I've had several emails from people who've been inspired to join the regime. Good luck to you all.
As the photographer arrived I weighed in at 195.4 lbs. This is the lightest I’ve been since I was going out with Anneka Rice in the mid-90s. Even then Ms Rice complained about my weight (in fairness, during the relationship I had expanded from 185 pounds, which was, and is, my “true weight” for my height and build). I remember her saying one morning, rather cruelly, but I confess accurately, that I was looking pregnant: this, just as I got out of the bath. That could well have been the beginning of the end.
I began a diet that day, but failed as miserably as I have in subsequent attempts, including the one where Michael Grade and I competed with the Controller of BBC1 and sent each other cakes and messages to try and put each other off. I’ve described that journey, and my failed 2008 attempt to emulate it, in another post.
Alright, a more cynical reader, or indeed an ex-girlfriend, might point out that I look as pregnant now as I did then, but I do feel that my Dukant diet has been a resounding success. I genuinely feel better, lighter, healthier and everything else I promised myself. More importantly, I’m proud of my family snaps, the first of which is published here and more of which will appear later this week on Blog From The North.
They were a nightmare to shoot. The talented photographer, Pam Hordon, was an angel. Unlike Izzy, who had no desire to be part of the polite and formal family group shot that Jo and I had envisaged. She insisted on sprinting round the garden instead of sitting quietly on my lap. Thus the “sitting” became a running.
The shoot reminded me of a film I made about the Walton Sextuplets, which included a photo session with Lord (Patrick) Lichfield attempting to take a family portrait in a formal garden on their second birthday (here's one of the more successful pictures which has been scanned onto a fanzine site). The shoot was a glorious nightmare, with Lichfield waving a little bird at them, which they all studiously ignored. Just as he was set to take the picture, one of the six would run off into the distance. Miraculously, Patrick managed to get all six looking at the camera at the same time, and the Waltons were far better behaved than Izzy. It was fortunate that Pam was more than a match for her.
The pictures show a leaner, more sprightly man than before: still just as old, of course, but perhaps more ready to enjoy the next round of fatherhood with my beautiful young wife and my gorgeous, if rather exhausting, daughter.
Thank you for following this blog to this, its final chapter. I shall be attempting to remain at this weight for some time, despite Dr Dukan’s exhortations for me to carry on down to my “true weight”. Jo doesn't want me to carry on: she thinks I'm just fine as I am (or maybe she just wants her life back). My appetite wants me to be a stone bigger.
If Dukan prevails, and I lose even more than I have to date, I may update this blog: I will have consumed an awful lot of oatbran by then. If he does not, as seems more likely (judging by the large bacon cheeseburger I had just half an hour after this photograph was taken and the seafood linguine I'm preparing for supper tonight), this will be my final word on the last moments of my ex-waistline. But you may catch the occasional visual clue on Blog From The North. I look forward to welcoming you there.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Not All Fat Ladies Are Pregnant
Day 63
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 0 pounds (196 lbs)
I have a terrible confession about a major weakness of mine – a paranoia, even. I can spot a close acquaintance on the other side of the street and, mid-hail, will stop myself from saying his name – just in case I’ve confused him for someone else.
So, to avoid potential embarrassment, I utter a strangulated “Hi there” and wait for him to acknowledge me. Often confirmation of the person’s true identity takes several minutes. I can’t just say “How’s Dorothy?”, or “Are you still with the Gas Board?”, just in case my friend isn’t the friend I think he is, or isn’t married to the right person, or in the right job. So I tend to come out with phrases like “How are things?” and wait for a clue in his reply to reassure myself that I’m both talking to the correct person and that I really do know what he does, who he lives with and all the other essentials to ensure safe ongoing discourse.
This long established fear of awkwardness and humiliation would keep a psychotherapist in new couches for life, I’m sure. Something in my childhood, some terrible mortification long hidden behind a mask of uncertainty, will have prompted this terrible discomfort. My two years of therapy in California failed to grapple with it: I had bigger skeletons from my past to uncover.
In the 1980s I made the world’s worst talk show producer because I could never recognise any of the guests. I once told a well-known artist in the Groucho Club how much I liked his movies. He replied “I like Lindsay Anderson’s work too, but sadly I’m not him”. I was so distraught, he sketched a portrait of me which he gave me “to remind me who I am”.
So, as a result of this perverse obsession with identity, I’ve always been very careful about what I say to anyone. Most of all, I keep quiet about their appearance. I’ve even stopped saying how well people look since a former work colleague whom I did recognise (also in the Groucho Club) revealed, after receiving my congratulations on his slim physique, that he’d just been diagnosed with cancer. Sadly I read that he died last Sunday.
So imagine my surprise when three people in the last 24 hours have had the courage to come straight up to me and declare, bold as brass, how much weight I’ve lost. I’m full of admiration – for them, not me. I’d be too scared to say that to anyone for fear of the consequences. But why only three, and why in the last 24 hours, when I’ve been hovering around this weight for a week and a half? Maybe they are secret readers of this very blog?
Tomorrow I’m going to wear a big badge with “The Diet Is Over – yes, I’ve lost nearly 2 stone - you can congratulate me”. But first the photographs: so I can carry the proof forever.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 0 pounds (196 lbs)
I have a terrible confession about a major weakness of mine – a paranoia, even. I can spot a close acquaintance on the other side of the street and, mid-hail, will stop myself from saying his name – just in case I’ve confused him for someone else.
So, to avoid potential embarrassment, I utter a strangulated “Hi there” and wait for him to acknowledge me. Often confirmation of the person’s true identity takes several minutes. I can’t just say “How’s Dorothy?”, or “Are you still with the Gas Board?”, just in case my friend isn’t the friend I think he is, or isn’t married to the right person, or in the right job. So I tend to come out with phrases like “How are things?” and wait for a clue in his reply to reassure myself that I’m both talking to the correct person and that I really do know what he does, who he lives with and all the other essentials to ensure safe ongoing discourse.
This long established fear of awkwardness and humiliation would keep a psychotherapist in new couches for life, I’m sure. Something in my childhood, some terrible mortification long hidden behind a mask of uncertainty, will have prompted this terrible discomfort. My two years of therapy in California failed to grapple with it: I had bigger skeletons from my past to uncover.
In the 1980s I made the world’s worst talk show producer because I could never recognise any of the guests. I once told a well-known artist in the Groucho Club how much I liked his movies. He replied “I like Lindsay Anderson’s work too, but sadly I’m not him”. I was so distraught, he sketched a portrait of me which he gave me “to remind me who I am”.
So, as a result of this perverse obsession with identity, I’ve always been very careful about what I say to anyone. Most of all, I keep quiet about their appearance. I’ve even stopped saying how well people look since a former work colleague whom I did recognise (also in the Groucho Club) revealed, after receiving my congratulations on his slim physique, that he’d just been diagnosed with cancer. Sadly I read that he died last Sunday.
So imagine my surprise when three people in the last 24 hours have had the courage to come straight up to me and declare, bold as brass, how much weight I’ve lost. I’m full of admiration – for them, not me. I’d be too scared to say that to anyone for fear of the consequences. But why only three, and why in the last 24 hours, when I’ve been hovering around this weight for a week and a half? Maybe they are secret readers of this very blog?
Tomorrow I’m going to wear a big badge with “The Diet Is Over – yes, I’ve lost nearly 2 stone - you can congratulate me”. But first the photographs: so I can carry the proof forever.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
The Final Hurdle
Day 58
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 0 pounds (196 lbs)
One pound and one week to go. Next Saturday Jo, Izzy and I have our family portrait taken and, if things go to plan and I don’t suddenly rediscover the joys of cappuccinos and ice cream, I should have hit my target weight of 195 pounds. When I’m dead and buried, this is how Izzy will remember me.
Yesterday my friend Justin asked me the question I’m refusing to think about: what happens next?
Well, at the moment I can’t think beyond Newcastle United’s first home game of the season, next Sunday, when I hope to be sitting in the bar with a steak and kidney pie, chips and a pint of Grolsch. Except that, after two months of abstinence, I know that will just make me feel ill – even if we beat Aston Villa, which is a most unlikely event. Jo has organised a little celebration with friends after the game at our favourite Chinese restaurant – noodles and rice have been banned along with everything else I really enjoy in life and I’m really looking forward to Mango’s fried pork dumplings and steamed scallops and prawns.
The question is, how much of this diet will continue, and where will my weight be a month or two from now? The short answer is, I don’t really know. But one thing is clear: I’m enjoying this new body. I actually feel rather more alive than I did two months ago; I don’t huff and puff climbing stairs or hills; I am more confident in my clothes.
I’m still a whole 14 pounds off my so-called (called by Dr Dukan) “real” weight, but Jo says she doesn’t want to be married to an old wrinkly. At the moment I'm gently gliding down by just a pound or two a week - I doubt this will continue.
So I’ve set myself a new target: I intend to stay below 200 pounds forever. Quite how I achieve this once my taste buds come across all the banned substances again, I don’t know. But I may well keep up the cardboard breakfasts, and even have the ghastly roast chicken-only lunches from time to time. And I shall certainly keep weighing myself – not daily, as I have been for two months, but weekly. And I’ll publish the weight in my other blog, www.blogfromthenorth.com, where today I’ve posted a more extensive version of the Size 34 jeans saga I shared with you earlier in the week. Jo and I went to Gap on Thursday and I bought dozens of Large (not Extra Large!) shirts and a couple of pairs of new jeans. It was a most satisfying feeling, quite worth all the pain of the last two months.
And to keep me motivated there will be the evidence, the Before and After photographs. I’ll be posting them as soon as the photographer sends me the evidence. And they’ll sit on this site forever, as a permanent reminder of how I was, how I became and, hopefully, how I’ll never look again.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 0 pounds (196 lbs)
One pound and one week to go. Next Saturday Jo, Izzy and I have our family portrait taken and, if things go to plan and I don’t suddenly rediscover the joys of cappuccinos and ice cream, I should have hit my target weight of 195 pounds. When I’m dead and buried, this is how Izzy will remember me.
Yesterday my friend Justin asked me the question I’m refusing to think about: what happens next?
Well, at the moment I can’t think beyond Newcastle United’s first home game of the season, next Sunday, when I hope to be sitting in the bar with a steak and kidney pie, chips and a pint of Grolsch. Except that, after two months of abstinence, I know that will just make me feel ill – even if we beat Aston Villa, which is a most unlikely event. Jo has organised a little celebration with friends after the game at our favourite Chinese restaurant – noodles and rice have been banned along with everything else I really enjoy in life and I’m really looking forward to Mango’s fried pork dumplings and steamed scallops and prawns.
The question is, how much of this diet will continue, and where will my weight be a month or two from now? The short answer is, I don’t really know. But one thing is clear: I’m enjoying this new body. I actually feel rather more alive than I did two months ago; I don’t huff and puff climbing stairs or hills; I am more confident in my clothes.
I’m still a whole 14 pounds off my so-called (called by Dr Dukan) “real” weight, but Jo says she doesn’t want to be married to an old wrinkly. At the moment I'm gently gliding down by just a pound or two a week - I doubt this will continue.
So I’ve set myself a new target: I intend to stay below 200 pounds forever. Quite how I achieve this once my taste buds come across all the banned substances again, I don’t know. But I may well keep up the cardboard breakfasts, and even have the ghastly roast chicken-only lunches from time to time. And I shall certainly keep weighing myself – not daily, as I have been for two months, but weekly. And I’ll publish the weight in my other blog, www.blogfromthenorth.com, where today I’ve posted a more extensive version of the Size 34 jeans saga I shared with you earlier in the week. Jo and I went to Gap on Thursday and I bought dozens of Large (not Extra Large!) shirts and a couple of pairs of new jeans. It was a most satisfying feeling, quite worth all the pain of the last two months.
And to keep me motivated there will be the evidence, the Before and After photographs. I’ll be posting them as soon as the photographer sends me the evidence. And they’ll sit on this site forever, as a permanent reminder of how I was, how I became and, hopefully, how I’ll never look again.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Dusting Off The Old
Day 49
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 1 pound (197 lbs)
Oh so close. I can’t wait to announce that I’ve dropped below the 14 stone barrier for the first time since – oh, at least the 1990s. Today I accidentally pulled on a pair of Armani jeans that were minding their own business in the bottom of a drawer. They were size 34, which I haven’t been able to squeeze into since I went to the United States in 2000.
Sadly these were jeans I must have bought sometime in the eighties. They had a tight crotch and thighs and flares. Jo was singularly unimpressed when I showed them off in the garden. “Take them off immediately and throw them away” was her command. “And promise me you’ll never, ever, wear them out in public – not even when you buy the newspapers.”
Later I tried a whole host of other trousers and jackets which have been languishing unloved in the wardrobe for years. They all fit perfectly now. But they all look absolutely terrible.
This is a bitter disappointment. I’d kept them all, like bits of old electrical equipment, mobile phones, sockets and spare lightbulbs for redundant fittings, along with keys for long-forgotten doors and several dozen battered curtain rings, because I’d always hoped that one day they might come in useful again. Similarly, I’ve always believed that my unrelenting expansion was going to be reversible. But it’s been so many years, so many seasons… maybe the 80s will become fashionable again. Perhaps in 2020?
Now it's time for the weekend festivities: in my version of the DuKant diet, the YuKan, I'm allowed pretty much what I like at the weekend. So it's off to the pub for steak (no chips) and a nice glass of Chateauneuf du Pape. And we'll see what the damage is on Monday.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 1 pound (197 lbs)
Oh so close. I can’t wait to announce that I’ve dropped below the 14 stone barrier for the first time since – oh, at least the 1990s. Today I accidentally pulled on a pair of Armani jeans that were minding their own business in the bottom of a drawer. They were size 34, which I haven’t been able to squeeze into since I went to the United States in 2000.
Sadly these were jeans I must have bought sometime in the eighties. They had a tight crotch and thighs and flares. Jo was singularly unimpressed when I showed them off in the garden. “Take them off immediately and throw them away” was her command. “And promise me you’ll never, ever, wear them out in public – not even when you buy the newspapers.”
Later I tried a whole host of other trousers and jackets which have been languishing unloved in the wardrobe for years. They all fit perfectly now. But they all look absolutely terrible.
This is a bitter disappointment. I’d kept them all, like bits of old electrical equipment, mobile phones, sockets and spare lightbulbs for redundant fittings, along with keys for long-forgotten doors and several dozen battered curtain rings, because I’d always hoped that one day they might come in useful again. Similarly, I’ve always believed that my unrelenting expansion was going to be reversible. But it’s been so many years, so many seasons… maybe the 80s will become fashionable again. Perhaps in 2020?
Now it's time for the weekend festivities: in my version of the DuKant diet, the YuKan, I'm allowed pretty much what I like at the weekend. So it's off to the pub for steak (no chips) and a nice glass of Chateauneuf du Pape. And we'll see what the damage is on Monday.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Weekend Blues
Day 44
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 4 pounds (200 lbs)
Thanks to a weekend of excess (potatoes, several glasses of wine, even an ice cream) the dizziness has evaporated. Not so my stomach, which put on three pounds.
As the guilt struck, I reread my last post. So I do have an excuse, but I feel overstuffed and hungover: in fact, positively human again.
Back to the cardboard on Monday. And definitely no alcohol till next Friday night. Which will then leave me just two weeks before the big day.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 4 pounds (200 lbs)
Thanks to a weekend of excess (potatoes, several glasses of wine, even an ice cream) the dizziness has evaporated. Not so my stomach, which put on three pounds.
As the guilt struck, I reread my last post. So I do have an excuse, but I feel overstuffed and hungover: in fact, positively human again.
Back to the cardboard on Monday. And definitely no alcohol till next Friday night. Which will then leave me just two weeks before the big day.
Friday, July 30, 2010
The Incredible Shrinking Hulk
Day 42
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 1 pound (197 lbs)
I fainted in the garden this morning. I was inspecting the labels on some of my bushes and all I did was stand up; suddenly the world started spinning. I sat down quickly on the grass and after a few seconds the plants slowed down and stopped. Then, when I lifted myself back up, this time more gently, it happened again: we have a circular lawn and the bushes round the edge spun like a top.
This is not a pleasant side effect of this diet – assuming that’s what’s causing it. I guess it’s all I deserve, having had virtually no sugar or fats for the last 42 days. Sure, I’ve lost 18 pounds (in fact, it's 22 pounds since I first went to Los Angeles just 7 weeks ago), but I’m now wondering what it’s doing to my health.
Jo was very worried when I told her, so I met up with her for a very early lunch at Fratelli’s, our favourite Italian. She said I was obviously in dire need of complex carbs, not just moist card (which, in the form of oatbran, was all I've been eating every morning). I immediately ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio, which usually cures most of my ills, and by the time that had kicked in, a large plate of chicken stew arrived, with Italian sausage and those most complex of carbs, borlotti beans. Izzy had penne with tomato sauce, and they brought Jo a flattened sirloin steak, coated in breadcrumbs alla Milanese, which I think the chef must have thought was for me, as it filled the entire plate.
That jolly meal soon had me right as summer rain, but, at Jo’s insistence, I made an appointment next week to see our doctor: she says I have to check my blood's pressure and sugar level. She also says I'm looking green again - perhaps I'm anaemic. I've bought a packet of Multibionta 50+ probiotic multivitamin pills ("For Today's Hectic Lifestyles"). Frankly, right now this 50+ doesn't feel like doing anything hectic. After the Pinot Grigio, a long afternoon snooze is what he really needs.
I knew this diet would ultimately do me no good. But I’m pleased that I’m just a couple of pounds off my final (initial) target. Even if I may not actually survive till August 21st. Or if I do, the photographer may have to correct the colour of my portrait to take away the green hue. Hopefully by then that'll be my only resemblance to the Incredible Hulk.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 1 pound (197 lbs)
I fainted in the garden this morning. I was inspecting the labels on some of my bushes and all I did was stand up; suddenly the world started spinning. I sat down quickly on the grass and after a few seconds the plants slowed down and stopped. Then, when I lifted myself back up, this time more gently, it happened again: we have a circular lawn and the bushes round the edge spun like a top.
This is not a pleasant side effect of this diet – assuming that’s what’s causing it. I guess it’s all I deserve, having had virtually no sugar or fats for the last 42 days. Sure, I’ve lost 18 pounds (in fact, it's 22 pounds since I first went to Los Angeles just 7 weeks ago), but I’m now wondering what it’s doing to my health.
Jo was very worried when I told her, so I met up with her for a very early lunch at Fratelli’s, our favourite Italian. She said I was obviously in dire need of complex carbs, not just moist card (which, in the form of oatbran, was all I've been eating every morning). I immediately ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio, which usually cures most of my ills, and by the time that had kicked in, a large plate of chicken stew arrived, with Italian sausage and those most complex of carbs, borlotti beans. Izzy had penne with tomato sauce, and they brought Jo a flattened sirloin steak, coated in breadcrumbs alla Milanese, which I think the chef must have thought was for me, as it filled the entire plate.
That jolly meal soon had me right as summer rain, but, at Jo’s insistence, I made an appointment next week to see our doctor: she says I have to check my blood's pressure and sugar level. She also says I'm looking green again - perhaps I'm anaemic. I've bought a packet of Multibionta 50+ probiotic multivitamin pills ("For Today's Hectic Lifestyles"). Frankly, right now this 50+ doesn't feel like doing anything hectic. After the Pinot Grigio, a long afternoon snooze is what he really needs.
I knew this diet would ultimately do me no good. But I’m pleased that I’m just a couple of pounds off my final (initial) target. Even if I may not actually survive till August 21st. Or if I do, the photographer may have to correct the colour of my portrait to take away the green hue. Hopefully by then that'll be my only resemblance to the Incredible Hulk.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Me and Tony Soprano
Day 41
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 2 pounds (198 lbs)
Last night I was browsing through the special wallet I keep for my trips to America (I have a whole different set of credit cards and a few dollars in case I have to jet off to the States at short notice), when out popped Tony Soprano. He stood there, redfaced and stern, with his heavy double-chin-bedecked red neck, daring you to look him in the eyes. A terrifying sight, this large heavy set monster was clearly a product of too much Barolo and meatballs. The photograph was on a laminated card that read: California Driver License.
The photograph, taken in August 2004, stood above a notice that I needed prescription glasses and had grey hair (did they really have to rub it in? Why not just print “Description: Old Fat English Bloke”). It also stated my precise weight at that time: 208 pounds. I smiled – that’s ten pounds heavier than I am right now.
Then I couldn’t get the picture of Soprano out of my mind. Well, not him exactly, but the pasta that went with the meatballs that caused the man's double chin. I have a huge craving for Fratelli’s homemade linguini - it's the first place I'm visiting the day this diet finishes. At least I have only 23 days to last. That’s assuming I don’t murder anyone in the meantime: God, this diet has put me in a bad mood.
Right now Jo is sitting opposite me in the office eating a takeaway curry from Rasa, my favourite Indian restaurant in the world. I can smell the spiced calories drifting across the room. Meanwhile I'm having a plain two-egg omelette and a small mountain of dry roast chicken. I hate her. This morning she issued me with a warning: don’t let your face get too thin. Apparently there’s nothing less sexy than a wrinkly neck.
Now there’s a dilemma: how do you lose weight without wrinkling? The Dukan book provides no solutions. Does anyone have any ideas?
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 2 pounds (198 lbs)
Last night I was browsing through the special wallet I keep for my trips to America (I have a whole different set of credit cards and a few dollars in case I have to jet off to the States at short notice), when out popped Tony Soprano. He stood there, redfaced and stern, with his heavy double-chin-bedecked red neck, daring you to look him in the eyes. A terrifying sight, this large heavy set monster was clearly a product of too much Barolo and meatballs. The photograph was on a laminated card that read: California Driver License.
The photograph, taken in August 2004, stood above a notice that I needed prescription glasses and had grey hair (did they really have to rub it in? Why not just print “Description: Old Fat English Bloke”). It also stated my precise weight at that time: 208 pounds. I smiled – that’s ten pounds heavier than I am right now.
Then I couldn’t get the picture of Soprano out of my mind. Well, not him exactly, but the pasta that went with the meatballs that caused the man's double chin. I have a huge craving for Fratelli’s homemade linguini - it's the first place I'm visiting the day this diet finishes. At least I have only 23 days to last. That’s assuming I don’t murder anyone in the meantime: God, this diet has put me in a bad mood.
Right now Jo is sitting opposite me in the office eating a takeaway curry from Rasa, my favourite Indian restaurant in the world. I can smell the spiced calories drifting across the room. Meanwhile I'm having a plain two-egg omelette and a small mountain of dry roast chicken. I hate her. This morning she issued me with a warning: don’t let your face get too thin. Apparently there’s nothing less sexy than a wrinkly neck.
Now there’s a dilemma: how do you lose weight without wrinkling? The Dukan book provides no solutions. Does anyone have any ideas?
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Summer Days Drifting Away
Day 40
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 2 pounds (198 lbs)
Last night we roasted 2 poussin with paprika and slices of Iberico ham on the breasts to keep them moist. When they were cooked, we sat them on a bed of wild rocket and let the warmth of the birds do the wilting and their juices act as a dressing.
Beside them, we heaped a stirfry of sweet peppers, bok choi and spicy mustard leaves, with thick slivers of garlic and hot dried chilli crumbled into the oil. We used peanut oil with some Mirin – Japanese rice wine – and a splash of dark soy. A spoonful of minted peas blanched straight from the pod, and long thin whole baby carrot soldiers, with green stalks cropped like Mohican haircuts. Garnishing the dish, a row of baked cherry tomatoes still on the vine, dotted with a mist of balsamic.
We looked at the plates, kaleidoscopic in their various textures, colours and flavours and we thought: there’s only one thing this meal needs. So, for perfection's sake, and indifferent to the rules of the diet, we poured two glasses of cold, fragrant, dry pink Sancerre. The ultimate meal for a summer’s evening.
And still the scales show two pounds lost since yesterday: that’s 17 pounds in 40 days. Where will this end? Only 3 pounds to go now to my primary target of 195 pounds – and still 3 weeks before the dreaded photograph.
I think I will soon have a dilemma: when to stop? How thin can a chap get?
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 2 pounds (198 lbs)
Last night we roasted 2 poussin with paprika and slices of Iberico ham on the breasts to keep them moist. When they were cooked, we sat them on a bed of wild rocket and let the warmth of the birds do the wilting and their juices act as a dressing.
Beside them, we heaped a stirfry of sweet peppers, bok choi and spicy mustard leaves, with thick slivers of garlic and hot dried chilli crumbled into the oil. We used peanut oil with some Mirin – Japanese rice wine – and a splash of dark soy. A spoonful of minted peas blanched straight from the pod, and long thin whole baby carrot soldiers, with green stalks cropped like Mohican haircuts. Garnishing the dish, a row of baked cherry tomatoes still on the vine, dotted with a mist of balsamic.
We looked at the plates, kaleidoscopic in their various textures, colours and flavours and we thought: there’s only one thing this meal needs. So, for perfection's sake, and indifferent to the rules of the diet, we poured two glasses of cold, fragrant, dry pink Sancerre. The ultimate meal for a summer’s evening.
And still the scales show two pounds lost since yesterday: that’s 17 pounds in 40 days. Where will this end? Only 3 pounds to go now to my primary target of 195 pounds – and still 3 weeks before the dreaded photograph.
I think I will soon have a dilemma: when to stop? How thin can a chap get?
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
My Vegetable Garden
Day 39
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 4 pounds (200 lbs)
My vegetable garden has been supplying all our needs for over six weeks now, and should carry on doing so until the first frosts of winter.
Here’s what the raised beds are currently producing (from bottom left, clockwise)
1
Red Onions
Shallots
White Onions
Red Onions
Shallots
White Onions
2
Bok Choi
Chioggia Beet
Red Beet
Radishes: French & English
Oak Leaf Lettuce
Lettuce Sansula
Lollo Rossa (for July/August)
Lamb’s Lettuce
Arugula
Red Leaf Amaranth
Strawberries: Royal Sovereign
3
Courgettes
Carrots
Spring Onions
Wild Rocket
Maris Piper Potatoes
4
Potatoes: Arran Pilot & Charlotte
Spinach
Lollo Rossa (for August/September)
Little Gem (Cos) Lettuce
5
Peas
Leeks
6
Broad Beans
Runner Beans
French Beans
Parsnips
7
Red Beets
White Beets
Golden Beets
Red Purslane
Mustard Greens: Pizzo, Red Giant and Homiz
Persian Cress
Purple Mizuna
Blackcurrants
Redcurrants
Whitecurrants
Gooseberries
Raspberries
Apples
Pears
Parsley (French, Italian and Curly)
Origamo
Marjoram
Greek Sage
Purple Sage
Lovage
Sorrel
Coriander
Chives
Salad Burnet
Fennel
Dill
Basil and numerous different Mints
Bay, numerous Thymes
Bok Choi
Chioggia Beet
Red Beet
Radishes: French & English
Oak Leaf Lettuce
Lettuce Sansula
Lollo Rossa (for July/August)
Lamb’s Lettuce
Arugula
Red Leaf Amaranth
Strawberries: Royal Sovereign
3
Courgettes
Carrots
Spring Onions
Wild Rocket
Maris Piper Potatoes
4
Potatoes: Arran Pilot & Charlotte
Spinach
Lollo Rossa (for August/September)
Little Gem (Cos) Lettuce
5
Peas
Leeks
6
Broad Beans
Runner Beans
French Beans
Parsnips
7
Red Beets
White Beets
Golden Beets
Red Purslane
Mustard Greens: Pizzo, Red Giant and Homiz
Persian Cress
Purple Mizuna
Then, at the back of the picture against the wall, you can see the soft fruit area, with:
Blackcurrants
Redcurrants
Whitecurrants
Gooseberries
Raspberries
Apples
Pears
and, at the back, under the dovecote, is the herb parterre, which, as well as a lot of bindweed, is home to:
Parsley (French, Italian and Curly)
Origamo
Marjoram
Greek Sage
Purple Sage
Lovage
Sorrel
Coriander
Chives
Salad Burnet
Fennel
Dill
Basil and numerous different Mints
Bay, numerous Thymes
Also, in the main garden, I’m growing artichokes, bay and rosemary (and about a dozen different thymes as well as camomile and some mints, and in the orchard we have Cox, Braeburn, Worcester and Bramley apples, various pears and, best of all, three whole treesful of juicy Victoria plums, which should be fully ripened by the end of my diet. So, Dr Dukan, I’m afraid the “vegetables every other day and no fruit at all” programme just isn’t going to work for me. Not this year, at least.
Monday, July 26, 2010
This Little Lamb Didn't Die In Vain
Day 38
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 4 pounds (200 lbs)
Yesterday we had more farm-to-table food for Sunday lunch. The only thing that travelled further than the journey from our garden was a leg of a new season lamb, which involuntarily baaed its way from a farm in Great Whittington, just over the hill.
To accompany it, we had a range of different baby leaves (mizuna, cress, various mustards and rockets), Arran Pilot potatoes, baby red beets and white beets, baby courgettes, peas and the first of the new broad bean crop. We draped the banquet with a lamb jus made with our own mint.
The meal was unbeatable. We felt we had to toast it with another bottle of red wine.
And I was still only 200 pounds by Monday morning.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 4 pounds (200 lbs)
Yesterday we had more farm-to-table food for Sunday lunch. The only thing that travelled further than the journey from our garden was a leg of a new season lamb, which involuntarily baaed its way from a farm in Great Whittington, just over the hill.
To accompany it, we had a range of different baby leaves (mizuna, cress, various mustards and rockets), Arran Pilot potatoes, baby red beets and white beets, baby courgettes, peas and the first of the new broad bean crop. We draped the banquet with a lamb jus made with our own mint.
The meal was unbeatable. We felt we had to toast it with another bottle of red wine.
And I was still only 200 pounds by Monday morning.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Tears Before Suppertime
Days 37
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 4 pounds (200 lbs)
Yesterday I revealed exclusive details of my YuKan diet. In it I confessed that weekends operate on slightly different rules than weekdays, particularly on Saturday nights.
This week, our idea of a date night was to go to the cinema to see Toy Story 3. Like all grown men, apparently, I blubbed incoherently into my popcorn throughout the last five minutes. It was too embarrassing to repeat the story here, but if you want to have a laugh at my expense, I have bared all on my latest Blog From The North.
We sought solace, red-eyed, in a local restaurant called Blackfriars. It’s probably the first really good English food we’ve had in the north east since we moved here three and a half years ago. They make great claims about it being “farm to table”: in other words, all their produce is locally grown - they have a map of the farms that supply them on every table.
That’s all very well if the chef can cook. Almost every restaurant in the region makes similar claims: but as far as I can make out almost none of their chefs know how to handle their ingredients. The food comes out as mangled and tasteless as if it had travelled from Brighton.
Not so the team at Blackfriars. It was, quite simply (and I’m aware this sounds like a terrible foody cliché) intelligently, competently and sensitively prepared with outstandingly fresh ingredients. I had queen scallops and the freshest sea bass (they called it rock bass, but I thought that only came from North American lakes); Jo had chicken with morels in a superb broth. Then we both had puddings – yes, puddings. Oh, and a huge Super-Tuscan red from Villa Antinori. That was to get over the movie.
And still only a pound added by the morning.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 4 pounds (200 lbs)
Yesterday I revealed exclusive details of my YuKan diet. In it I confessed that weekends operate on slightly different rules than weekdays, particularly on Saturday nights.
This week, our idea of a date night was to go to the cinema to see Toy Story 3. Like all grown men, apparently, I blubbed incoherently into my popcorn throughout the last five minutes. It was too embarrassing to repeat the story here, but if you want to have a laugh at my expense, I have bared all on my latest Blog From The North.
We sought solace, red-eyed, in a local restaurant called Blackfriars. It’s probably the first really good English food we’ve had in the north east since we moved here three and a half years ago. They make great claims about it being “farm to table”: in other words, all their produce is locally grown - they have a map of the farms that supply them on every table.
That’s all very well if the chef can cook. Almost every restaurant in the region makes similar claims: but as far as I can make out almost none of their chefs know how to handle their ingredients. The food comes out as mangled and tasteless as if it had travelled from Brighton.
Not so the team at Blackfriars. It was, quite simply (and I’m aware this sounds like a terrible foody cliché) intelligently, competently and sensitively prepared with outstandingly fresh ingredients. I had queen scallops and the freshest sea bass (they called it rock bass, but I thought that only came from North American lakes); Jo had chicken with morels in a superb broth. Then we both had puddings – yes, puddings. Oh, and a huge Super-Tuscan red from Villa Antinori. That was to get over the movie.
And still only a pound added by the morning.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
The YuKan Diet: The Proof Is In The (Lack Of) Pudding
Day 36
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 3 pounds (199 lbs)
Back on target. I'm in celebration mode, because my biggest personal milestone is now past me – the 200 pound barrier.
I haven’t been this light since – well, I actually can’t remember the last time. Funnily enough, despite the loss, and palpable changes to my physique, I still feel somewhat overweight. Just as I did in LA back in 2002 when I wanted to get down to 185 pounds. So maybe Dukan is right, and my true weight is still another stone away. But I shall be very, very happy if I lose another 5 pounds over the next couple of weeks.
The deadline coincides with Newcastle United’s home game of the season, against Aston Villa. My season tickets arrived in the post this morning. I shall have beer at half time and meet up with Jo afterwards at Fratelli's for some seafood linguini and a bottle of Sardinian wine. What a celebration that will be!
Progress is likely to be slow till then, because I’ve now adapted Dukan to my own lifestyle. Whereas he forces you to live like an antisocial hermit for two or three months, I don’t want to lose either my life or my wife. So here are the rules I've been using over the last few weeks:
Breakfast – always one plate of cardboard (see earlier posts for recipe) and either an egg (boiled or poached) or a fruit fat-free yoghurt. One slice of wholemeal bread every two days.
Snack – none. Don’t even think about it.
Lunch –
Weekdays (in the office): Tesco chicken, served cold so you want as little as possible. Yoghurt (but you can only have two per day because of the fruit sugar content).
Weekends: large plate of smoked salmon, or trout, or any lean meat, with a mound of delicious garden salad and a light lemony or balsamic dressing OR
1 Craster Kipper, grilled, and a grilled tomato with basil and balsamic.
6pm Snack – yoghurt if you haven’t already had two (see above).
Dinner –
Weekdays: Any fish, or lean meat, cooked simply with as much salad or vegetables as you like. Potatoes every third day.
Weekends: Saturday OR Friday night: whatever you like, even a light dessert. But no chips or fried food, curry or chinese food, though you can now have new potatoes in moderation (3 small ones per meal). If in a restaurant, go for chicken or fish – no pork, lamb or fatty cut of beef. Always order sauces on the side (you can taste and even dunk, but don't let your food go swimming). One glass of red wine each night. Half a bottle if you’ve something to celebrate. Don't feel guilty - ever.
Sunday lunch: as per weekday evenings, with either half a pint of beer or a glass of red wine. No dessert.
All I know is, this compromise (YUKAN) diet is working well for me. I’m not hungry, I’ve stopped feel faint, and my slimmed-down profile is the proof, with 16 pounds - over 7% of my body weight - disappearing in just over one month.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 3 pounds (199 lbs)
Back on target. I'm in celebration mode, because my biggest personal milestone is now past me – the 200 pound barrier.
I haven’t been this light since – well, I actually can’t remember the last time. Funnily enough, despite the loss, and palpable changes to my physique, I still feel somewhat overweight. Just as I did in LA back in 2002 when I wanted to get down to 185 pounds. So maybe Dukan is right, and my true weight is still another stone away. But I shall be very, very happy if I lose another 5 pounds over the next couple of weeks.
The deadline coincides with Newcastle United’s home game of the season, against Aston Villa. My season tickets arrived in the post this morning. I shall have beer at half time and meet up with Jo afterwards at Fratelli's for some seafood linguini and a bottle of Sardinian wine. What a celebration that will be!
Progress is likely to be slow till then, because I’ve now adapted Dukan to my own lifestyle. Whereas he forces you to live like an antisocial hermit for two or three months, I don’t want to lose either my life or my wife. So here are the rules I've been using over the last few weeks:
Breakfast – always one plate of cardboard (see earlier posts for recipe) and either an egg (boiled or poached) or a fruit fat-free yoghurt. One slice of wholemeal bread every two days.
Snack – none. Don’t even think about it.
Lunch –
Weekdays (in the office): Tesco chicken, served cold so you want as little as possible. Yoghurt (but you can only have two per day because of the fruit sugar content).
Weekends: large plate of smoked salmon, or trout, or any lean meat, with a mound of delicious garden salad and a light lemony or balsamic dressing OR
1 Craster Kipper, grilled, and a grilled tomato with basil and balsamic.
6pm Snack – yoghurt if you haven’t already had two (see above).
Dinner –
Weekdays: Any fish, or lean meat, cooked simply with as much salad or vegetables as you like. Potatoes every third day.
Weekends: Saturday OR Friday night: whatever you like, even a light dessert. But no chips or fried food, curry or chinese food, though you can now have new potatoes in moderation (3 small ones per meal). If in a restaurant, go for chicken or fish – no pork, lamb or fatty cut of beef. Always order sauces on the side (you can taste and even dunk, but don't let your food go swimming). One glass of red wine each night. Half a bottle if you’ve something to celebrate. Don't feel guilty - ever.
Sunday lunch: as per weekday evenings, with either half a pint of beer or a glass of red wine. No dessert.
All I know is, this compromise (YUKAN) diet is working well for me. I’m not hungry, I’ve stopped feel faint, and my slimmed-down profile is the proof, with 16 pounds - over 7% of my body weight - disappearing in just over one month.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Nooooo!
Day 35
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 6 pounds (202 lbs)
How on earth did that happen? Two pounds heavier.
Yesterday I had no cardboard, but a solitary kipper for lunch (the kitchen still smells of herring nearly 24 hours later). I adore Craster kippers, and Dr Dukan says I can. Or at least he doesn’t say DuKan’t.
Two raspberry yoghurts as snacks: oh, and two sirloin steaks, a couple of small freshly-dug Charlotte potatoes, two baby courgettes, with their flowers, and a mound of Mizuna and other exotic leaves.
Dukan says I can have as much protein as I want – hence the double steak. He thinks that’s all I should have had. But, honestly, I was gardening all afternoon, so how does he expect a chap not to faint with hunger?
By 7pm I was dying, and beginning to crave ice cream, so Jo gave me a “protein shake”, which tasted of chocolate and aspartame. It has no calories, carbs or, as far as I can make out, any recognizable ingredients, but it’s supposed to keep Olympic athletes going. I gardened like mad in the rain, in my perpetual race against the weeds. The weeds have been winning this competition all summer. I’m determined to get the upper hand this weekend, our first for ages without guests and other distractions. So, according to the rules, no excuses for alcohol.
Jo says my disastrous weigh-in is because we didn’t have dinner till 10pm, and so the metabolism didn’t get going to burn it off, or some other dietician-speak stuff. I just think it was that couple of potatoes. And the fact that, since the resumption of dietary activity, I haven’t properly – oh, you don’t want to know about that, I’m sure. Back to the Tesco's chicken today. And the cardboard for you-know-what.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 6 pounds (202 lbs)
How on earth did that happen? Two pounds heavier.
Yesterday I had no cardboard, but a solitary kipper for lunch (the kitchen still smells of herring nearly 24 hours later). I adore Craster kippers, and Dr Dukan says I can. Or at least he doesn’t say DuKan’t.
Two raspberry yoghurts as snacks: oh, and two sirloin steaks, a couple of small freshly-dug Charlotte potatoes, two baby courgettes, with their flowers, and a mound of Mizuna and other exotic leaves.
Dukan says I can have as much protein as I want – hence the double steak. He thinks that’s all I should have had. But, honestly, I was gardening all afternoon, so how does he expect a chap not to faint with hunger?
By 7pm I was dying, and beginning to crave ice cream, so Jo gave me a “protein shake”, which tasted of chocolate and aspartame. It has no calories, carbs or, as far as I can make out, any recognizable ingredients, but it’s supposed to keep Olympic athletes going. I gardened like mad in the rain, in my perpetual race against the weeds. The weeds have been winning this competition all summer. I’m determined to get the upper hand this weekend, our first for ages without guests and other distractions. So, according to the rules, no excuses for alcohol.
Jo says my disastrous weigh-in is because we didn’t have dinner till 10pm, and so the metabolism didn’t get going to burn it off, or some other dietician-speak stuff. I just think it was that couple of potatoes. And the fact that, since the resumption of dietary activity, I haven’t properly – oh, you don’t want to know about that, I’m sure. Back to the Tesco's chicken today. And the cardboard for you-know-what.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Yesssss!
Day 34
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 4 pounds (200 lbs)
Cardboard for breakfast; dry Tesco chicken from a packet (and a strawberry yoghurt) for lunch; for dinner Izzy and I shared a slab of cod with steamed broccoli.
That’s it – apart from about a gallon of water and one Coke Zero. Izzy sat happily next to me eating her meal and saying “yum” – almost her only word – at every mouthful. I could have thought of better descriptions for the food, but at least one of us was enjoying it.
Afterwards I popped her in the backpack and took her and the dogs on a long walk round the fields – I’d worked up a sweat by the time we got back. The result this morning: diet hits target. Result.
Jo says I’ve become a diet bore again. And moody. And she doesn’t care that she can now see my abs where before there was just belly. She wants her old cuddly husband back. I said she can have me back on August 21st, not a day before.
Tomorrow: 199 pounds. Please…
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 4 pounds (200 lbs)
Cardboard for breakfast; dry Tesco chicken from a packet (and a strawberry yoghurt) for lunch; for dinner Izzy and I shared a slab of cod with steamed broccoli.
That’s it – apart from about a gallon of water and one Coke Zero. Izzy sat happily next to me eating her meal and saying “yum” – almost her only word – at every mouthful. I could have thought of better descriptions for the food, but at least one of us was enjoying it.
Afterwards I popped her in the backpack and took her and the dogs on a long walk round the fields – I’d worked up a sweat by the time we got back. The result this morning: diet hits target. Result.
Jo says I’ve become a diet bore again. And moody. And she doesn’t care that she can now see my abs where before there was just belly. She wants her old cuddly husband back. I said she can have me back on August 21st, not a day before.
Tomorrow: 199 pounds. Please…
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Another Packet Of Cardboard
Days 32 & 33
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 5 pounds (201 lbs)
Three pounds lost in two days, but I’m only back where I was on Sunday morning, before the encounter with the Stroh rum, and still a pound heavier than a week ago before Jo’s birthday.
I’ve now reached the halfway stage of this diet and thankfully I see no parties, guests visiting or other diversions approaching before the big day, which the photographer has now confirmed – August 21st. She’s coming to take our family portrait and I’m determined not to let the side down.
It’s going to require an enormous effort to get over the next hurdle – 199 pounds. Yesterday’s picture on the beach confirms how far I have to go, and today I'm publis
hing another. My mother-in-law says Izzy and I are two peas in a pod – we certainly have the same profile and double chin. I can’t believe that my overweight face is 14 pounds smaller than it was a month ago – I was huge. I’ve promised to publish “before” and “after” pictures on the last page of this blog. I’ve selected the “before” one, and it’s hideous.
Speaking of peas in pods, I see thousands of them waiting to be picked and eaten in the vegetable garden, next to their broad bean friends. Dukan says peas and beans are off limits. I say life’s too short, but there's definitely no more risotto primavera for me. Perhaps use them in salads. The mizuna leaves are up and ready to pick: they'll join the baby spinach and beetroot, mustard greens and wild rocket in a wonderful green feast tonight. Perhaps a little wild halibut on the side, to keep Dr Dukan happy.
The last time I was 201 pounds was in 2003, when I first got my job running a big production company in Los Angeles. The city was so full of glamorous young things that I felt utterly ancient and overweight, so I decided on a diet – I just wanted to get down to a respectable 195 pounds.
That diet lasted precisely one day. The enormous portions and margueritas did it for me, and since then I’ve put on nearly two pounds a year until, back in LA the week before I started this, I was an absurd 219 pounds. So I suppose getting down to 2003 levels is already an achievement. But to do now what I couldn’t do back then? That’s going to be some uphill battle.
I'm going to take the dogs for a long walk, but first I'm going to make a steaming bowl of cardboard. I bought myself a shiny new packet of oatbran yesterday. It's taken me exactly a month to get through the last one. Hopefully this will be the last I ever need to buy.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 5 pounds (201 lbs)
Three pounds lost in two days, but I’m only back where I was on Sunday morning, before the encounter with the Stroh rum, and still a pound heavier than a week ago before Jo’s birthday.
I’ve now reached the halfway stage of this diet and thankfully I see no parties, guests visiting or other diversions approaching before the big day, which the photographer has now confirmed – August 21st. She’s coming to take our family portrait and I’m determined not to let the side down.
It’s going to require an enormous effort to get over the next hurdle – 199 pounds. Yesterday’s picture on the beach confirms how far I have to go, and today I'm publis
hing another. My mother-in-law says Izzy and I are two peas in a pod – we certainly have the same profile and double chin. I can’t believe that my overweight face is 14 pounds smaller than it was a month ago – I was huge. I’ve promised to publish “before” and “after” pictures on the last page of this blog. I’ve selected the “before” one, and it’s hideous. Speaking of peas in pods, I see thousands of them waiting to be picked and eaten in the vegetable garden, next to their broad bean friends. Dukan says peas and beans are off limits. I say life’s too short, but there's definitely no more risotto primavera for me. Perhaps use them in salads. The mizuna leaves are up and ready to pick: they'll join the baby spinach and beetroot, mustard greens and wild rocket in a wonderful green feast tonight. Perhaps a little wild halibut on the side, to keep Dr Dukan happy.
The last time I was 201 pounds was in 2003, when I first got my job running a big production company in Los Angeles. The city was so full of glamorous young things that I felt utterly ancient and overweight, so I decided on a diet – I just wanted to get down to a respectable 195 pounds.
That diet lasted precisely one day. The enormous portions and margueritas did it for me, and since then I’ve put on nearly two pounds a year until, back in LA the week before I started this, I was an absurd 219 pounds. So I suppose getting down to 2003 levels is already an achievement. But to do now what I couldn’t do back then? That’s going to be some uphill battle.
I'm going to take the dogs for a long walk, but first I'm going to make a steaming bowl of cardboard. I bought myself a shiny new packet of oatbran yesterday. It's taken me exactly a month to get through the last one. Hopefully this will be the last I ever need to buy.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Life's A Beach
Day 31
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 8 pounds (204 lbs)
Stroh
rum is so strong, it used to be banned on airplanes in case it spontaneously combusted. That’s the story, anyway. It’s 160° Proof – that is, 80 percent alcohol by volume, Austria's secret weapon of mass destruction.
Stroh is undrinkable neat, but mixed with ginger beer, it makes the most potent, delicious, intoxicating rum cocktail imaginable. It’s perfect for a blustery day at the beach, which is how we spent yesterday with a group of friends, enjoying a final hurrah for Jo’s birthday. Our friend Deryn is half German, so she knew the secrets of the Stroh and Ginger Beer Punch. I have never tasted anything as strong in my life.
The picnic had originally been planned as a decoy, so that Jo wouldn’t think that anything had been arranged on the day of her actual birthday – you can read the whole dastardly plot on my Blog From The North. But we had so much fun earlier in the week, and the weather forecast was so mild, that we all decided to go ahead with it and headed off with kids and dogs to one of Northumberland’s famous deserted beaches.
It was Izzy’s first ever encounter with the North Sea and real sand. She was so excited, she giggled uncontrollably for several hours. The dogs went wild; I built sandcastles and fell asleep.
The problem for me was that the caterers (basically our three wives) had forgotten about my diet. There were piles of great sandwiches – luscious salami, ham and cheese, and my absolute favourite, mortadella – and there were boxes of home-baked cheese straws, roast beef sandwiches, chocolate brownies and pretzels. And there was the rum cocktail.
Sadly, this morning, I paid the price. Three pounds added. And now, back to the drawing-in-the-tummy board.
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 8 pounds (204 lbs)
Stroh
rum is so strong, it used to be banned on airplanes in case it spontaneously combusted. That’s the story, anyway. It’s 160° Proof – that is, 80 percent alcohol by volume, Austria's secret weapon of mass destruction.Stroh is undrinkable neat, but mixed with ginger beer, it makes the most potent, delicious, intoxicating rum cocktail imaginable. It’s perfect for a blustery day at the beach, which is how we spent yesterday with a group of friends, enjoying a final hurrah for Jo’s birthday. Our friend Deryn is half German, so she knew the secrets of the Stroh and Ginger Beer Punch. I have never tasted anything as strong in my life.
The picnic had originally been planned as a decoy, so that Jo wouldn’t think that anything had been arranged on the day of her actual birthday – you can read the whole dastardly plot on my Blog From The North. But we had so much fun earlier in the week, and the weather forecast was so mild, that we all decided to go ahead with it and headed off with kids and dogs to one of Northumberland’s famous deserted beaches.
It was Izzy’s first ever encounter with the North Sea and real sand. She was so excited, she giggled uncontrollably for several hours. The dogs went wild; I built sandcastles and fell asleep.
The problem for me was that the caterers (basically our three wives) had forgotten about my diet. There were piles of great sandwiches – luscious salami, ham and cheese, and my absolute favourite, mortadella – and there were boxes of home-baked cheese straws, roast beef sandwiches, chocolate brownies and pretzels. And there was the rum cocktail.
Sadly, this morning, I paid the price. Three pounds added. And now, back to the drawing-in-the-tummy board.
Illegal Substances
Day 30
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 5 pounds (201 lbs)
Yes – two days of detoxing did the trick. I’m now pretty sure that the Dukan diet’s primary purpose is to incentivise, rather than to provide a proper scientifically-based weightloss programme. Either that, or it's designed only to inflict misery. I lost those four pounds without blinking simply by giving up alcohol and eating mainly protein.
I say mainly, but in fact I supplemented this intake with some extremely illegal substances: namely new potatoes and fresh peas – both harvested straight from my vegetable garden. I’m sorry Dr Dukan, but I'm now ignoring your absurd suggestion that my diet must have no peas – they’re only starchy when they’ve been left on the plant for too long (or shipped to a supermarket). So these were cooked within ten minutes of picking. With a little home-grown mint, these little beauties were the most delicious thing I’ve eaten so far this year. And, best of all, they made a fantastic risotto primavera on Thursday night. But that was a mistake. I put it down to the party the night before.
Jo and I were so appallingly hungover on Thursday morning that, after we waved goodbye to Josh, we were both craving comfort food. I cooked her Cumberland sausages and mustard mash with onion gravy while I rustled up a risotto for myself. This is how non-diet-friendly these dishes were: (please note, these recipes should not be followed by anyone pretending they're on a diet).
Fry the sausages in a little peanut oil. Just a little.
Meanwhile, boil Maris Piper potatoes (one wife will eat about four medium sized potatoes, depending on extent of hangover). Melt half a pack (125 grams) of unsalted French butter in a saucepan. It looks a lot. It is.
When butter is runny, add a huge glug (about 150 ml) of thick single cream (or thin double cream). Stir and bring to a simmer. Add five heaped tablespoons from a jar of Colman’s English Mustard. Stir – it should be yellow. Add salt and pepper. It looks like an awful lot for a few potatoes. Don’t worry, you wanted mustard mash, and this is the best in the world.
Beat sauce into the mashed up potatoes. They should go yellow and be extremely mustardy.
Onion gravy: 1 red onion, sliced and fried in olive oil and butter till it softens and releases its white sugary yumminess. Add one tablespoon brown sugar and one of red wine vinegar. Add a little veal or chicken stock, or a bit of an Oxo cube. Thicken a little with cornflour if you don’t have time to reduce it completely to a wonderful gooey sweet and sour sauce. Pour over sausage and potatoes. Eat, then sleep.
(NB if you eat the lot you'll have consumed about 1,000 calories – but it cures any hangover, and Jo said she felt better immediately.)
Have about a litre of homemade chicken stock simmering away on stove (or, if you have to, make if from a couple of chicken stock cubes).
Fry 1 finely chopped shallot in olive oil and a little butter (add butter after heating olive oil so it froths up). When shallot is soft, add finely chopped garlic for about 30 seconds (so it doesn’t brown) and then half a handful of Carnaroli rice (which is preferable to Arborio).
Stir dry rice over heat till it smells a little nutty, then add a large glug of white wine (do not drink wine under any circumstances). As soon as wine is absorbed, start adding stock, a ladleful at a time. Keep stirring.
Meanwhile blanche in heavily minted, slightly salted water (for no more than 2 minutes) peas and finely sliced baby courgettes (zucchinis to Jo). And broad beans if they’re ready (which they were not). Immediately plunge them into iced water for a minute, then drain. The peas should stay bright green.
Add peas and courgettes after risotto has been cooking for 12 or so minutes – and courgette flowers if you have them. Cook for a further 5 or 6 minutes, adding more stock as required, till the starch starts to flow from the rice and the grains taste firm but not crunchy (don't listen to anyone who says risotto should be "al dente" - they're wrong. Ask any Italian). Add big glug of mascarpone cheese (or unsalted butter or creme fraiche) and a couple of tablespoons of grated parmesan, salt and pepper and finely chopped parsley.
These are the most DuKant things you can ever eat. But also the most delicious. And despite a bowlful of risotto on Thursday night, by Sunday I was where I needed to be. Except that Sunday was the day we had the final birthday celebration for Jo - a picnic on the beach. Mortadella sandwiches! - the best (but see tomorrow's posting for news of their disastrous consequences).
Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 5 pounds (201 lbs)
Yes – two days of detoxing did the trick. I’m now pretty sure that the Dukan diet’s primary purpose is to incentivise, rather than to provide a proper scientifically-based weightloss programme. Either that, or it's designed only to inflict misery. I lost those four pounds without blinking simply by giving up alcohol and eating mainly protein.
I say mainly, but in fact I supplemented this intake with some extremely illegal substances: namely new potatoes and fresh peas – both harvested straight from my vegetable garden. I’m sorry Dr Dukan, but I'm now ignoring your absurd suggestion that my diet must have no peas – they’re only starchy when they’ve been left on the plant for too long (or shipped to a supermarket). So these were cooked within ten minutes of picking. With a little home-grown mint, these little beauties were the most delicious thing I’ve eaten so far this year. And, best of all, they made a fantastic risotto primavera on Thursday night. But that was a mistake. I put it down to the party the night before.
Jo and I were so appallingly hungover on Thursday morning that, after we waved goodbye to Josh, we were both craving comfort food. I cooked her Cumberland sausages and mustard mash with onion gravy while I rustled up a risotto for myself. This is how non-diet-friendly these dishes were: (please note, these recipes should not be followed by anyone pretending they're on a diet).
Tom’s Sausages and Mustard Mash Hangover Cure
(not to be confused with recipes for mustard mash made with grain mustard, which are positively disgusting by comparison).
Fry the sausages in a little peanut oil. Just a little.
Meanwhile, boil Maris Piper potatoes (one wife will eat about four medium sized potatoes, depending on extent of hangover). Melt half a pack (125 grams) of unsalted French butter in a saucepan. It looks a lot. It is.
When butter is runny, add a huge glug (about 150 ml) of thick single cream (or thin double cream). Stir and bring to a simmer. Add five heaped tablespoons from a jar of Colman’s English Mustard. Stir – it should be yellow. Add salt and pepper. It looks like an awful lot for a few potatoes. Don’t worry, you wanted mustard mash, and this is the best in the world.
Beat sauce into the mashed up potatoes. They should go yellow and be extremely mustardy.
Onion gravy: 1 red onion, sliced and fried in olive oil and butter till it softens and releases its white sugary yumminess. Add one tablespoon brown sugar and one of red wine vinegar. Add a little veal or chicken stock, or a bit of an Oxo cube. Thicken a little with cornflour if you don’t have time to reduce it completely to a wonderful gooey sweet and sour sauce. Pour over sausage and potatoes. Eat, then sleep.
(NB if you eat the lot you'll have consumed about 1,000 calories – but it cures any hangover, and Jo said she felt better immediately.)
Tom’s Risotto Primavera Hangover Cure
Have about a litre of homemade chicken stock simmering away on stove (or, if you have to, make if from a couple of chicken stock cubes).
Fry 1 finely chopped shallot in olive oil and a little butter (add butter after heating olive oil so it froths up). When shallot is soft, add finely chopped garlic for about 30 seconds (so it doesn’t brown) and then half a handful of Carnaroli rice (which is preferable to Arborio).
Stir dry rice over heat till it smells a little nutty, then add a large glug of white wine (do not drink wine under any circumstances). As soon as wine is absorbed, start adding stock, a ladleful at a time. Keep stirring.
Meanwhile blanche in heavily minted, slightly salted water (for no more than 2 minutes) peas and finely sliced baby courgettes (zucchinis to Jo). And broad beans if they’re ready (which they were not). Immediately plunge them into iced water for a minute, then drain. The peas should stay bright green.
Add peas and courgettes after risotto has been cooking for 12 or so minutes – and courgette flowers if you have them. Cook for a further 5 or 6 minutes, adding more stock as required, till the starch starts to flow from the rice and the grains taste firm but not crunchy (don't listen to anyone who says risotto should be "al dente" - they're wrong. Ask any Italian). Add big glug of mascarpone cheese (or unsalted butter or creme fraiche) and a couple of tablespoons of grated parmesan, salt and pepper and finely chopped parsley.
These are the most DuKant things you can ever eat. But also the most delicious. And despite a bowlful of risotto on Thursday night, by Sunday I was where I needed to be. Except that Sunday was the day we had the final birthday celebration for Jo - a picnic on the beach. Mortadella sandwiches! - the best (but see tomorrow's posting for news of their disastrous consequences).
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
One Big Day, One Bigger Husband
Day 28
Then: 15 stone 5 lbs (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 8lbs (204 lbs)
Day Four of the “Hang The Diet, We’re Celebrating” event. It was Jo’s 40th birthday, so all night we drank fine wine and champagne, partied like teenagers and ate cake: lots of chocolate, calorific, completely illegal cake. And, by the morning, another pound duly appeared on the scales. I’m lucky it wasn’t a lot worse.
The day’s surprise highlights (for Jo) included:
Tonight we’re spending the evening with some great friends, Paul and Deryn, who have a music room in their house – how smart is that? Josh and Paul will be playing the drums together and I will be bashing the piano. It will take quite a lot of red wine to get me beyond the greatest hits of Andrew Lloyd Webber: but, as it’ll be my last night of freedom before hitting the diet trail again, I’ll be making the most of it.
I apologise now for the most likely outcome: the absence of a blog entry tomorrow caused by an acute hangover. Luckily Josh is only here till Thursday morning: after that we’ll see how quickly the YouKan diet copes with the excesses of these last few days. The plan is to go straight back to protein-only for another three days and try to get back to 200 pounds by the end of the weekend. That would leave me exactly four weeks to trim down for the family portrait on the 21st August. Which is also the date of Newcastle’s first home game of the season.
Watch this space; and waistline.
Then: 15 stone 5 lbs (215 lbs)
Now: 14 stone 8lbs (204 lbs)
Day Four of the “Hang The Diet, We’re Celebrating” event. It was Jo’s 40th birthday, so all night we drank fine wine and champagne, partied like teenagers and ate cake: lots of chocolate, calorific, completely illegal cake. And, by the morning, another pound duly appeared on the scales. I’m lucky it wasn’t a lot worse. The day’s surprise highlights (for Jo) included:
- Breakfast in bed,
- Hairdresser at home,
- Thai massage at home,
- Fresh Sushi at home,
- New pair of Christian Louboutins (as depicted on cake),
- Surprise birthday party with 30 close friends, and
- One very tipsy, heavy but happy husband.
Tonight we’re spending the evening with some great friends, Paul and Deryn, who have a music room in their house – how smart is that? Josh and Paul will be playing the drums together and I will be bashing the piano. It will take quite a lot of red wine to get me beyond the greatest hits of Andrew Lloyd Webber: but, as it’ll be my last night of freedom before hitting the diet trail again, I’ll be making the most of it.
I apologise now for the most likely outcome: the absence of a blog entry tomorrow caused by an acute hangover. Luckily Josh is only here till Thursday morning: after that we’ll see how quickly the YouKan diet copes with the excesses of these last few days. The plan is to go straight back to protein-only for another three days and try to get back to 200 pounds by the end of the weekend. That would leave me exactly four weeks to trim down for the family portrait on the 21st August. Which is also the date of Newcastle’s first home game of the season.
Watch this space; and waistline.
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