Bernard O'Shea: Jelly and popcorn stopped me binge eating at night

Bernard O'Shea: I'm eating jelly to keep the night hunger pangs away.

Growing up, one of my first memories was visiting the doctor’s house in Durrow, Co Laois. Durrow has a big, sizeable Georgian square. Most Cork City and Cork GAA fans (along with every sales rep I have ever met) always knew Durrow - as it was the halfway point between Dublin and Cork - on the old road.

When I was growing up, Dr Bannon was one of the town's physicians. He lived and had his surgery in a beautiful old Georgian house marked by a bright yellow door. He would ask me every time what colour the door was in Irish. And every single time, he would have to tell me the answer was “buí.” Unfortunately, he would not be impressed with how my Irish had progressed over the years; however, his constant advice to my granny that was passed onto my mum was, “Don’t eat after six o’clock in the evening.” 

It was, and is, advice that I find almost impossible to maintain. I was terrified of “Just-Eating” during the lockdown, especially in the evening, and before bedtime. It became a vicious cycle. I would skip breakfast and lunch, so by the time the kids were in bed, I’d typically be ordering food. Nine times out of ten, too much food. Then I’d feel stuffed going to bed, and when I woke up, and again and again until the pattern became repetitive.

A turmeric tea ritual helped but didn’t fully curb my binges every evening. Simply put, I’m a terror for hunting for food at night. So is my daughter but she’s as light as a kite. It might, however, be in our DNA.

Bernard O'Shea. The thought of a grown man pulled in on the side of the road having his mini birthday party is comical, but for the first time in years, I’m waking up hungry.

In an interview with the New York Times in 2018, Dr Satchidananda Panda, a professor at the Salk Institute for Biological Studies in San Diego, said that evening hunger “may have been an evolutionary adaptation that helped us get through the night. For millions of years, our night-time period was when we didn’t have access to food, and you also could not just get yourself food as soon as you woke up in the morning.” As always, there is a hormone involved, ghrelin. Ghrelin is sometimes called the hunger hormone because it whets the appetite which in turn increases the appetite, and results in larger deposits of fat being stored. Just like the nocturnal gremlins, ghrelin becomes even more active at night, thriving on sleep disturbances and high intake of sugar. Researching this hormone, I couldn’t help but see parallels between its nature and my own personality.

I’m currently operating on a carrot and stick system whereby I reward myself for so-called “achievements” throughout the day. Here’s how it goes.

By 9pm, all the kids are asleep. I haven’t had a proper meal that day, and I’m ravenous. I look around the kitchen and see fruit, vegetables, and meat in the fridge. All the good stuff that I cook for the kids. 

But then the little monkey in my head starts banging his cymbals and starts shouting at me, “reward yourself, Bernard” and within minutes, I’m on my phone ordering a take-away. 

An hour and a half later, I’m sitting on the couch; guilty, bloated, and full of remorse.

I head off to bed with a big full belly, have a terrible night's sleep, and wake up grumpy and in no mood to eat breakfast the following day. Sometimes I have a sugar hangover as well. The only thing I can stomach for breakfast is coffee. Once the caffeine kicks in, I have enough adrenaline to face the day. And so, the cycle begins again.

From turning off screens to winding down correctly and eating a balanced diet, most advice aimed at curbing the night-time munchies is very practical. The issue is - I’m not always the most practical person. The one thing I tried that did work was drinking water. Based on self-experiment, I believe that you are dehydrated a lot of the time, not hungry. However, this meant getting up at least three times a night to pee. It wasn’t until a recent Sunday lunch reminded me of a culinary throwback that effectively put pay to my night-time munchies.

We were recently out for a Sunday Lunch, and I noticed jelly and ice-cream on the children’s menu. I hadn’t seen jelly on a menu in donkey's years. In the last decade, it has fallen out of favour but has had a recent revival, especially as a sugar-free snack. The kids love it, and I have to say I was blasted right back to the 80s when I robbed a quick spoonful.

Popcorn is also helping curb Bernard's cravings 

I knew that the water worked but could I replace it with jelly? So instead of boiling water and waiting for it to set and placing it in the fridge for my kids to maul, I bought a few trays of the sugar-free pot and put them in my car. Every evening, I go to the shop to top-up on various bits and pieces I’ll need the next day. I take the time to ring home. However, when I'm in the car, his cravings hit. When I’m in the shop, I’ll buy chocolate and fizzy drinks to feed my dusk-time desires. So, I open a jelly pot, sometimes two, and slurp away; so far, so good.

Last week on my way home, I got so hungry that I had to pull the car to the side of the road. I so desperately wanted to get a takeaway, but I reached for my jelly pot, and it took the edge off. But you soon get fed up with jelly. So, on an odd day, I’ll have a bag of popcorn. I know it’s not perfect - popcorn and jelly - and the thought of a grown man pulled in on the side of the road having his mini birthday party is comical, but for the first time in years, I’m waking up hungry. Just last week, I ate breakfast. Who knew that the possible start of getting rid of my belly could have started with eating jelly? It's early days, but hopefully, the proof will be in the pudding (pun very much intended).