Love Fat is now published, and I am going through all the parts that I edited out for one reason or another and posting them in the Blog.

Some things are obvious as to why the were cut out. Others, not so. This I took out because it just didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of the chapter. As with most parts of Love Fat, I wrote simply because I enjoyed doing so. For someone once so obsessed with health trends it is so nice to be able to be honest and admit that I actually don’t like chia seeds and a number of other foods that I tried to pretend that I enjoyed just because they are considered healthy.

The flip side of this is that I now allow myself to admit that I like fried chicken, burgers, sausages, cheese, crisps and of course, cheese.

Chia Seeds

Just for the record, I don’t like chia seeds. And while I am at it, I will state here that I also dislike the following “health foods.”

Quinoa—because it tastes of emptiness.

Cottage cheese—because it challenges my gag reflex.

Tofu—because it tastes of nothing and has the texture of chunky sick.

Anything gluten free—because gluten makes all foods taste great so why on earth would one go without?

But today, let’s talk about chia seeds—the new ultra-fad superduperfood. Chia seeds are small and get stuck in one’s teeth and add nothing to the experience of eating other than frustration. I have tried them in yoghurt and that tastes like what I imagine frogspawn to taste like: gloopy and weird. I understand that they are nutritionally beneficial—omega-3 fatty acids, tons of fiber, and a viable source of unicorn tears—but I managed to get to thirty-three on a diet void of chia, so I think I am doing alright.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not opposed to the odd chia seed, and should a lone chia find his way onto my plate I’d probably not even notice. But why is it that whenever a new “superfood” is marketed discovered one has to have it shoved down one’s throat? There are now chia seeds in everything—whether you want it or not. It reminds me of the time that my mother discovered wheatgerm. Suddenly there was wheatgerm on and in everything. Wheatgerm on my cereal, in my bread, in milkshakes and even deceptively baked into flapjacks and chocolate muffins giving them that sawdusty texture that defines all wheatgerm-infested foods.

Where the hell did all the wheatgerm go anyway? Can one even buy that stuff anymore? Used to be that I couldn’t walk down the street without being seeing some wheatgerm and nowadays I don’t even know that Whole Paycheck stock it. Was it not to be the superpower that the human race depended on?

Or maybe everyone just cogged that it does what bread does only it doesn’t taste as nice.

Anyway, back to chia. It’s not like I didn’t give them a fair chance. I have suffered through a multitude of different delivery systems including the stupid “chewable juice” trend.

Let’s take a moment to reflect on chewable juice shall we? You know what I think immediately when you say “chewable juice” to me: puke. Yes, uncouth as that makes me sound it is true; I think of sick when people start talking about drinks with chucks in them. Because I am already thinking of vomit, I find it difficult to relax and enjoy a chunky puke-style beverage. That said, I am not the best person to judge chewable juice. Either way, I’m not chugging the chunks.

I have had chia in a “chia chocolate bar” that I was given (I did not purchase it) as a free tester. Unlike the sick juice, a “chocolate bar” appeals to me a great deal. I practically snatched it from the hand of the vendor and scarpered like a Chihuahua with a steak. Most things taste good when mixed with chocolate; not chia. I took one bite and spat it into a tissue I was that bad. I felt deceived. Lied to.

Chocolate is a wonderful substance; coupling it with chia seeds is a travesty. People keep going and putting them in all sorts of things; bread is fine on its own—it does not need chia seeds added to it. The same goes for peanut butter and kombucha.

I think that what makes me really opposed to chia however is nothing to do with the taste of it. I mean, I don’t like the taste of mud, but I do not feel the need to rant about that publicly. No, it is the marketing bullshit that currently surrounds chia that pisses me off. What the hell is next? Apple pips in granola? Watermelon seed bread? Orange pip protein bars?

I’ll stick with a good old fashioned chocolate bar thank you very much. And no, I don’t need you to put açaí berries in it either.

Wheatgerm, quinoa, millet . . . now chia seeds. Leave it out.