That was silly of me.
In good company I do tend to eat and drink without too much regard to the consequences. And once upon a time, I could get away with it. That time was as recently as a year ago. I ate whatever I liked, drank whatever I liked. This was in moderation, of course; but the precise mix of food and drink didn't worry me, and certainly there was no fear that an injudicious tasting of something exotic would lead to tummy-ache. There was the slight but ever-present risk of food poisoning, but that was one thing that I did look out for. I've suffered more than once over the years from dodgy food-preparation practices, most spectacularly while on holiday in 1999: a dubious paella in a Budleigh Salterton pub. Pub paella? Never again. It was days before I was fit enough to drive home. A horrible experience. But an upset tummy from just an eclectic mix of foodstuffs? It didn't happen.
But clearly it can happen now. Since November 2016 I've enforced upon myself a food and drink regime designed to lose weight - with success. This has entailed the abandonment of nearly all manufactured food. Milk, tea, cereals, chopped tomatoes and some other things have to be purchased in factory-sealed bottles, tins and other containers. But most things I eat are bought in their natural, fresh state, and cooked very simply. And no sauces or gravies poured on; just a sprinkling of soy sauce, or Lea & Perrins sauce; and now and then - out of a bottle - a little English mustard, mint sauce or tomato ketchup.
My range of things to eat at home is wide and tasty. But almost all of it is simple and natural, prepared with the minimum of artifice.
And a foodie might also say, with the minimum of finesse. Anybody dining chez moi and hoping for something beyond a piping hot meal of satisfying quantity, colour and taste will be disappointed - and probably snooty about my peasant-level culinary techniques and presentation. Where food is concerned, my aim is a good meal with well-balanced nutrients - not a work of art. I am not chasing accolades. I am eating simply and carefully to ensure good health now, and to avoid some of the more obvious later-life health problems that might otherwise come my way in future years.
But simplicity has its consequences. My digestive system has become used to processing what I carefully prepare at home, plus sensible things eaten away from home. It can't cope with a sudden influx of fancy stuff. It protests. And I think that what I ate and drink last Sunday evening was too exotic a mix. Things rarely consumed nowadays. Result: feeling off-colour, loud gurglings and rumblings in my digestive tract, and enough wind to inflate a zeppelin.
Naturally all of it went into my daily Food Diary (click or tap on it, to see the details easily):
No problems with the items eaten at home. The pink-background items were the challenge.
Artichokes in oil.
Brioche slices dripping in garlic-flavoured olive oil.
Slow-cooked lamb in red wine.
Jam and cream sponge.
Champagne.
Pernod.
Red wine.
Individually, nothing very evil about this list (well, there is, in a Slimming World sense, but we'll pass over that), but taken together those things overwhelmed my digestive powers.
It's entirely my own fault, of course. Next time, common sense will prevail. It clearly has to.
Meanwhile, I have to live through a period of discomfort. It isn't pleasant. There's no nausea or diarrhoea, but it's an effort to cope with life just now. I sleep a bit: that helps. And I read on and off. I've somehow found the energy to do rather a lot of straightforward post-holiday chores, but not feeling right in my tummy has meant no mowing the lawns and other gardening, and that's a concern. I've also been disinclined to do any blogging, nor even publishing my holiday shots on Flickr. I intended to tackle both of those this afternoon, but eating an apple a while back has upset everything again (how daft was that?) and this post is as much as I can put together today.
Let's hope I wake up tomorrow (Wednesday) feeling a lot better!