Joe McNamee: Sugar use has Ireland rising up the obesity chart

"Sweets really were treats. Bread and jam was as much as you might enjoy during the week until Pops came home on a Friday night with toffees to be thrown to the slavering hordes."

Sat, 15 Nov, 2025 - 01:00

Joe McNamee

Yesterday, November 14, was World Diabetes Day, arriving rather appropriately just after the national sugar spike that is Halloween.

I can be carbon dated back to a time when sweets were outliers in the trick or treating haul, rare diamonds amongst the base metals of apples, mountains of unshelled peanuts, and the occasional mandarin.

Posher houses might throw in a few walnuts, almonds, hazelnuts, also unshelled, the presumption being surely every home had a nutcracker, but sweets were few and far between, and not just at Halloween.

Having moved into an apartment, my only trick or treating visitors this year were the quartet of kids from across the hall, the only children in the block.

Heading out early, I left a bag full of sweets hanging from my door knob, probably more than I’d have eaten in a single year of my own childhood, though procuring sweet stuff would have been a primary preoccupation of my youth.

Rampaging inflation these days means coins carry little more than nuisance value, but in my childhood even the humble penny carried surprising purchasing power, notably, the iconic ‘penny bar’.

Mind you, there were days when even pennies were hard to find, and this, in a salubrious, middle-class area of Cork City.

Sweets really were treats. Bread and jam was as much as you might enjoy during the week until Pops came home on a Friday night with toffees to be thrown to the slavering hordes.

Sweets were ‘protected’ behind shop counters, in display cabinets or glass jars, only to be touched once money had been handed over.

When Eastern Europeans first began to arrive in substantial numbers to Ireland in the early 2000s, their physiques put me in mind of those of the Irish emigrants in 1980s London or young Gaels in Reeling in the Years, queuing in Shannon Airport as they headed off to make a new life in Amerikay.

Lean, chiselled, not a pick of fat to be seen.

Now sugar is consumed all day long, from the highly sugared breakfast cereals and bars first thing in the morning, right through to the Galaxy bar in front of the telly last thing at night.

We are the fourth largest consumer of sugar in the world, behind the US, at number one, then followed by Germany and the Netherlands.

Ireland is the second most obese nation in Europe, on course for number one spot by the year 2030.

In the substantial gap between the birth of my first child and the two that followed, the German discount multiples arrived in Ireland and I reckon they played a big part in the transformation, especially when the Celtic Tiger crashed and the social stigma of discount shopping crumbled in the face of society-wide penury.

At first, an intensely brand-loyal Irish shopping populace turned up its nose at much cheaper knock-offs of original confectionery but sugar cravings won out in the end, most especially when sated by the giant bags of cheap gummy confections to be had for a mere pittance, which would have equated to the lost treasures of El Dorado when I was a child.

Even more impactful, however, was the general transformation in the approach to confectionery retailing.

Now sweets were sited in prime positions in shops and stores, right by the tills where every customer and their children must eventually wind up.

So accessible, children could now actually get their mitts on the merchandise, half the battle in completing a sale, the transaction eventually nudged over the finish line with judicious bawling, wailing, and gnashing of teeth, to wear down the last reserves of weary parents.

I’d fancy there are many former children now trapped in adult bodies who find it equally challenging to pass these displays without also springing for a sneaky sugared dopamine hit.

As someone who these days weighs not too far south of two adult bodies, I could equally do with reducing my own sugar consumption — I’m now trying to hark back to my healthier youth, relishing a slice of hot, buttered toast with raw local honey and calling it ‘Irish cake’.

TABLE TALK

The Irish Coffee Championship (November 23) takes place at Vice Coffee, in Wigwam on Middle Abbey St, in Dublin, with Ireland's top bartenders, baristas and home enthusiasts going head to head to create the ultimate Irish Coffee.

To enter, submit a recipe and the top six will be selected to compete in the final. Fans and followers are welcome (ticket: €10) to watch the action, with a welcome Irish coffee on arrival. Entry now open.

www.vicecoffeeinc.com/irishcoffeechamps

I recently discovered Ruairí’s Kitchen, a delightful little cafe-deli in the former post office on High St, in Cork city, where Ruairí Domican-Byrne turns out some very tempting cakes, including an airy, light bakewell positively singing with almond.

Also on offer are excellent sandwiches made using quality local produce and great bread from Ben Le Bon’s Seeds bakery.

Ben also supplies the equally tempting patisserie offering and the wonderful coffee comes from the roastery down the road in Cafe Moly, their roasted output amongst the finest beans to be had in Ireland.

www.ruairiskitchen.ie

TODAY’S SPECIAL

Though based in Midleton, in Co Cork, Lunula Tea are still very much an online retail operation which means this local base operates with a national reach, all good news for discerning Irish tea drinkers.

While I will always have time for a pot of Barry’s Tea — loose leaf only! — my appetites stretch far beyond that, roaming far and wide through the myriad tea flavours to be savoured from around the world, especially when I’ve hit my daily quota of coffee.

Lunula make for super guides, sourcing natural, organic teas that range from complex rich black teas, clean fresh green teas, delicate white teas, naturally caffeine-free herbal Infusions, floral teas and fruit infusions.

I recently relished their Blue Earl Grey (€4, 50gm), elegantly structured, finely balanced, with vibrant blue cornflower petals and thrilling citrus notes of organic bergamot.

And, yes, I did drink it from a bone china cup with saucer, pinky extended — it seemed the right and proper thing to do!