Deprivation? I think not, Mister Bond!


Does this look like diet food to you? Me neither. After feeding my family on pasta last night, I constructed this little beauty for myself feeling very, very smug indeed. Sorry about that, but it’s hard not to gloat.

This is (deep breath) half a butternut squash and one chicken breast, drizzled with olive and sesame oil and chucked in the oven for half an hour; half a tomato, wedged up; a big handful of rocket, ‘cos I love rocket; a handful of roasted pistachios (they’re the purplish things that look spookily like borlotti beans); a dollop of full-fat soft cheese in the scooped-out bit of the squash; a squirt of mayo on the chicken; a shake of lime juice and Lo-Salt overall (and here’s a big shout-out for potassium chloride), and a final drizzle of the cooked-out juices from the roasting pan.

That, my friends, not only looks like a bleedin’ feast, it tasted like one too. Who knew low-carbing was such fun? It also means I can have cream in my coffee, ‘cos cream has less carbs than milk, I get to freak out the disembodied voice at the McDonalds drive-thru in Newcastle by asking for a Big Mac without buns, and I still get to down the occasional single malt at the pub. Win. Win. Win-win. Hence my insufferable smugness right now. Again, sorry about that.

I’m just off to make a coffee and peanut butter protein shake for breakfast.


Mrs. Gloaty McSmugness of Smugsham, Northsmugsland.