Confessions of a Junk Foodaholic.

I have always had a tricky relationship with food. When I was younger my mother swore that my appetite had mood swings; I would eagerly munch down on every edible item in sight (and those in closed cupboards) for the best part of a week before picking like a bird at whatever was put down in front of me for a day or two. In recent years my bird picking days have been limited to stressful, busy times when I do not necessarily find the time to sit down to a proper meal or when my funds are running dangerously low.

In general, if there is food I want that is easily accessible then I must eat it. Even if I am full. When I order a take away (and standardly order enough to feed the masses) I have a strategy to cram in as much of the deliciousness as possible – speed eating. My theory is that the faster you eat, the longer it takes for your stomach to realise you are full and as such you can enjoy much more food in the one sitting. Once I hit the full level, I simply sit back for a few minutes, maybe do some light burping and then begin eating again very slowly. At this point, you must be careful not to startle your stomach – it should not know that ingestion has recommenced until it is too late. This process can be repeated a number of times until you have cleared your plate...and the food containers.

With amazing restaurants and delicious cafés being close to ubiquitous in Melbourne, returning broke from the farm where I had also been incredibly well fed was insanely difficult for me and my stomach to bear. I spent $20 on a week's supply of food which mainly consisted of bread, ham, cheese and a lot of instant noodles (a staple that kept me alive through my university years). As a result I was not eating all that much because while the taste aspect was delicious for about a day, after that day my supplies did not make any meals I particularly wanted to eat. Eventually, my financial situation ruled out ham (even the cheapest packets, that were supposedly 'shoulder ham' – yummers!) and I became a reluctant vegetarian. Weeks later I would lament that the last proper piece of meat I ingested before my animal abstinence was a Sausage McMuffin (my first ever in fact) which is more 'meat' than meat. Considering what a carnivore I am and how many (semi-joking) anti-vegetarian rants I have produced over the years this was not actually that difficult. I have always said that when I get fat (and let's be honest, it is coming to me, my metabolism is going to quit eventually) I would never have the willpower to diet but it is fine – just become flat broke so you can only afford things you do not really want to eat. The real problem kicked in once I had a little bit of money. Of course what I should have done was buy moderately interesting ingredients rather than being stuck with noodles and toasties. What actually happened was that my junk food cravings took a hold on my stomach and my wallet.

I have openly admitted on a number of occasions that I find few things on this earth as delicious as chips; garlic chips, mayo chips, chilli chips, curry chips, gravy chips, cheesy chips, curry gravy cheesy chips (don't knock it until you have tried it) or just golden and piping hot with salt and vinegar, slapped onto fresh bread so fast that the butter starts to melt and escapes the buttie to drip down your fingers. They may be “the devil's starchy fingers” but sweet heaven in a cone are they tasty! It is not just chips – I have an unhealthy love of most unhealthy food and always have but it is only since I have been in Australia that I have came to terms with things - my name is Dominique and I am a Junkie. (Not in the heroin way, in the junk food way, get it?) 

Once I was earning money in Melbourne I reverted to that petulant seven year old who cannot walk past a McDonalds or a KFC without suddenly becoming faint with hunger. The pangs were too much – I deserved a treat after those weeks of taste starvation. So I went in and spent money on this little treat. Naturally the same thing happened at dinner time. And the next day. Who cared if I barely had the money to cover the next week's accommodation, I needed that Big Mac and nothing else seemed important except getting my fix. I made excuses for my habit like "I do not have time to cook" and "I only eat chips socially" even though I was hitting up Red Rooster solo and dumping the wrappers in case anyone found them. KFC in particular became a vice, it is just so good here! All the varieties are available in a spicy option and the chips are generously sprinkled in chicken salt, one of the most abstract but delicious seasonings I have ever had to good fortune to come across. The only disappointment I encountered in this fast food rampage was Burger King.

It took me a while to realise that Hungry Jacks was in fact Burger King under a different trading name. My first trip was to grab a small nuggets meal which was below average – the nuggets contained nothing that resembled chicken and the chips were lukewarm and floppy. When I realised it was BK and would serve my beloved Bacon Double Cheeseburger meal I assumed the nuggets encounter was a singularly sub-par experience, a bad day for the home of the flame grilled whopper. Oh how wrong I was. The chips were just as bad as they had been the first time round, the bacon was rank and the meat itself was flat and tasteless.I only ate half of it. I was truly devastated. I came close to weeping (in my defense I was hungover and that burger was supposed to save me rather than crush my soul). It became clear why they could not trade as Burger King in Australia – their products were terrible. Burger Jester would have been more fitting because that bacon double cheese was a joke (that's right, no capitals for this one, it did not deserve it). And poor Jack, clearly he is so hungry because even he does not want to eat his own burgers. Now I'm not saying I hit rock bottom, but this disgusting burger was certainly somewhat of a wake up call. The dirty satisfaction I normally got from fast food was missing and I had to start looking elsewhere for what my stomach was craving.

Once I got into the swing of things at work and the money started rolling in with a glorious consistency I did a proper food shop and began cooking. Being in a small hostel with a modest sized kitchen also helped as so many shared kitchens become intimidating with huge groups of backpackers forming cliques around the stove tops making them impossible to get to. In previous hostels, I often reverted to cooking instant noodles in the microwave (which I very much frown upon) as it was worth not having to do battle to claim a saucepan and gas hob. It is not that I cook particularly healthy or exciting things – various forms of pasta, chilli and stir fries are largely what I whip up but it is definitely the way forward. Of course I still give the fast food chains more of my money than I should (I can sense them out there...calling to me...) but it has become a treat rather than a staple. This way, I can fatten my wallet instead of myself. Or you know, spend the money on alcohol, which we all know is calorie (and guilt) free. Besides I could never give it up entirely - I get free pizza in work and you cannot say no to free food. I just have to occasionally exercise this mystical 'willpower' I have heard so much about and take it one day at a time.

UPDATE: Around two hours after I posted this blog I was inexplicably in Hungry Jacks.