Living off miniature food for a week
It’s for Christmas, not for just life
More than once I’ve succumbed to buying miniature foods, solely for the novelty of being able to have a tiny little burger or sausage roll, but is it possible to eat them for every meal? With new diet fads cropping up all over, I could think of no better way to limit my portion sizes and lose a few pounds than to spend a week living off mini food. I was wrong.
The first hurdle I encountered was how hard it is to find decent miniature food out of the festive season, but luckily Marks & Spencer came to the rescue, presumably because the middle class prefer not to have to cut up their food.
The first day was a promisingly tasty start, beginning with Weetabix Minis, a box of cute sandwiches and a tiny chicken pie. The pie was so good I didn’t even mind there were 51.3 grams of fat stuffed into something barely bigger than a Satsuma.
The second day was also catered by Marks and Spencer, which was worth the disproportionate and obscene amount of money I spent in there on this experiment. This was made slightly more justifiable by the offer on mini sandwiches which would become my lunch for the foreseeable future, a choice which would later fill me with regret.
Dinner consisted of canapés including chicken skewers and feta pastries and managed to top the chicken pie. The best thing about miniature food is you can essentially have three meals in one with the fraction of the guilt and I’d happily do this every day.
Again the day began with mini Weetabix, which was getting old very fast as I was starting to realise they’re not a patch on their full-sized counter parts.
After the Marks and Spencer feast, my bank account was depleted and it was time to return to the old faithful, Tesco, whose selection of miniatures left something to be desired. The result was the beigest meal I’ve ever eaten, consisting of sausages, burgers, scotch eggs and “chicken straws”, two words which should never be combined again.
Lunch again was mini sandwiches, which by this point were probably past their best and had began to absorb the taste of fridge.
Haunted by the remnants of the Tesco beige selection, salvation came in the form of a teensy Marks and Spencer fish pie. Although not the most exciting of meals, it did actually have vegetables in it much to the joy of my stomach.
By day five I was simultaneously hungry, a few lbs heavier and an unnecessary amount of money down, so I decided to make the adult decision it would be the end of my experiment before I was forced to buy new clothes to fit my growing gut.
Ending how I started, and determined to finish the box so I’d never have to eat them again, breakfast was mini Weetabix for the fifth day in a row.
The rest of the day was filled with a disappointing margarita pizza, but thankfully I managed to find mini peppers so my body finally got some substantial fibre. The rice wasn’t technically miniature but it’s pretty small anyway so it definitely counts.
As you can tell from my experience, tiny food doesn’t make for tiny waistlines and even if I wanted to there’s no way my bank account would allow me to continue this diet. From now on I’ll be leaving the miniatures in the festive season and happily digesting regular-sized food like a normal person.