We all do things we are ashamed of, and would rather not share. I’m not talking about what you did after the Bop, or to so-called ‘Guilty Pleasures’, as these are rarely shame-inducing or particularly secretive. No, I am of course talking about the kind of embarrassing memory you suppress, destroy all evidence of, and pretend never happened- the things you did in your “formative years”.

Although it is embarrassing to report, there was a period in my life where I thought that Linkin Park were the best band of all time, that pro-skateboarding was a legitimate career plan and that nothing could best the lofty culinary heights of Thai Fusion cookery. It seemed so obvious back then (the food, not the career plan. I never even learnt to kick flip): first you take seemingly ‘ethnic’ ingredients - bonus points if you don’t really know what they are - and mix them with the best of the West! Of course, this was an idea as terrible as my CD purchases. Thai food is all about a subtle balance between powerful ingredients. A 13 year old arrogant to think he can do better is doomed to create such monstrosities as my Pesto Pad Thai.

Much like my insistence years later on not washing my hair and listening to 80s punk bands, misguided fads are nothing new. Our diets are constantly changing with the availability of new ingredients and the influence of changing demographics. Whilst the Sixties opened our minds to the Age of Aquarius, the 1970s opened our stomachs and heralded a culinary revolution in Britain. It was a decade where Delia Smith of all people was considered something of an innovator - a maverick on a mission to transform the ‘awful’ food we’d become accustomed to. This decade saw the first appearance of favourites such as Spag Bol and curries on the nation’s plates. Which was just as well – otherwise, it was an era where quiche was deemed edgy (as opposed to just eggy) and every restaurant boasted Black Forest Gateaux and Prawn Cocktails on the menu. I’m sure these seemed like good ideas at the time, but now they seem as embarrassing as that photo of your dad looking like a young Kevin Keegan.

As time passed the nation gradually saw the error of its ways. The 1980s saw Angel Delight become as unfashionable as flares and nationalised industries. Unfortunately we didn’t really get our money’s worth, sitting down to Pop Tarts and microwave meals. Nouvelle Cuisine came, opened the nation’s eyes to fresh and well-made food - and it’s hard to imagine the trend for sushi without the Gault Millau formula - but this refinement came at an astronomical cost. Somewhere along the way it stopped being acceptable to have three Blue Lagoons with lunch, replaced by a similar volume of cappuccino just to keep the inevitable hangover at bay. I’m sure the 1990s weren’t much better, but I was too busy playing with Lego to really notice.

The point is that food, like interior design, music or clothing, is subject to change and the Good Gourmet is above all a follower of fashion. These areas serve a functional role - you need to wear clothes as much as you need to eat, at least if you intend to leave the house - but when you embrace fashion and fads you elevate them into something altogether sublime. It may seem counterproductive to grow your hair just to cut it back, or spend hours making tapas (soooo 2009 darling!), but that’s part of separating the wheat from the chaff. To crib from Coco Chanel, “Fashion fades. Only style remains”. It’s strange to think that our parents grew up in an era without curries, pot noodles or the Van of Life. That said, I doubt my kids will believe me when I tell them that we didn’t have Soylent Green when I was a boy...

(For the record, the aforementioned episodes of my life are very much in the past. I have settled down to a refined palate, although in 5 years time I’ll probably be embarrassed by how much Marmite I eat. I maintain that being a pro-skateboarder would have been a better career choice than becoming a Natsci.)