Upstairs in my bedroom, I am greeted by a delightful aroma. The beef rib cap steak I left in the oven overnight has transformed into a deliciously browned treat, thanks to its slow cooking process.
This isn’t Sunday lunch or a treat for friends but my breakfast, and it’s all for me.
Prepare yourself for what some call ‘eating carnivore’ – envision having a satisfying roast every day, only this time, without the accompaniments like vegetables, horseradish, Yorkshires, gravy, or a glass of red wine. Essentially, it’s all about savoring the meat and nothing else.
As a food enthusiast with a background in critiquing restaurants and even judging on MasterChef, it may come as a surprise that I am about to embark on a ten-day diet that solely consists of meat. You might be questioning this decision, and trust me, I am in the same boat. However, rest assured, there is a method to my madness.
For decades now, a growing online chorus has punted the carnivore diet as a miraculous treatment, even cure, for multiple ills – from auto-immune diseases to neuro-developmental disorders, including autism and ADHD. I received a diagnosis of ADHD last year, at the age of 54.
When I wrote about this in the Mail, several people advised me that what I needed to do was ‘give up the meds’ and ‘go carnivore’.
I am far from a natural believer in these sorts of claims. I found some of these suggestions infuriating and some of my responses are too rude to print. But then I read a story that proved a tipping point.
Last month, 21-year-old student and YouTuber Daniel Vincent described how, by his mid-teens, his ADHD symptoms had become so crippling he believed ‘killing myself was the only answer’. Yet, after a couple of months of eating meat, and almost nothing else, he was able come off ADHD medication entirely, as well as losing six-and-a-half stone and effectively eliminating his depression, chronic pain and acne.
His before and after pictures speak for themselves: from slumped, spotty and grey to glowing with health, muscular and outgoing, it is clear he has completely transformed his life.
On the carnivore diet you can eat ribeye steak all day, every day (which has an average 73/26 fat to protein ratio). You can eat three eggs with a ton of butter and salt, says Kate SpicerÂ
YouTuber Daniel Vincent described how, by his mid-teens, his ADHD symptoms had become so crippling he believed ‘killing myself was the only answer’
Daniel’s before and after pictures speak for themselves: from slumped, spotty and grey to glowing with health, muscular and outgoing, it is clear he has completely transformed his life
ADHD is an inherited neuro-developmental disorder that causes areas of the brain to perform differently, including executive function (organising and executing tasks), impulse control and regulating emotions.
Right now I’d give anything not to have this diagnosis, as I’m newly single and no longer have a home to speak of.
Trying to move on from 15 years of cosy coupledom with two large dogs in tow on a modest and insecure writer’s income, I am frankly desperate to be able to perform at my best in work and in life.
Studies find women with ADHD are three to four times more likely to have general anxiety disorders. Lately, I certainly relate to that.
In the past year, as everything has blown up in my life, I feel so persistently anxious, I assumed it was my new and forever normal. Sometimes it makes me wonder if life is worth living at all.
Of course, the carnivore diet – in which you eat only fatty meats and, sometimes, eggs – runs counter to every current government guideline. Most medics would say it’s cancer, obesity, diabetes, heart attack and liver disease waiting to happen.
And yet, go on to any mental health forum and you’ll find people saying it’s not a kill, it’s a cure.
According to the carnivore ‘nutters’, as I refer to them, this is an anecdotally ‘proven’ intervention that improves brain messaging systems, reduces neuro-inflammation and stabilises mood.
Very few in the medical community have thrown their full weight behind this novel intervention. The ones who have are clear outliers such as Dr Georgia Ede, a ‘metabolic psychiatrist’ and author of Change Your Diet, Change Your Mind.
‘By following a diet that improves inflammation, energy pathways and insulin resistance, you can prevent, ease or reverse many emotional and cognitive issues,’ she says. ‘With ADHD, the benefits of going carnivore come from two things: removing irritating plant foods and being in ketosis.’
Ketosis is brought on by consuming a diet that is high in fat with low or no carbs. It refers to the process where the body doesn’t have enough easy-access energy in the form of glucose and starts burning fat for fuel, which then releases a source of energy for our cells called ketones.
While it’s known for weight-loss diets like Atkins, what is less known is that ketosis has been used for a century as a means of reducing epileptic seizures.
What’s new is the ‘plants are trying to kill you’ school of thought, which requires us to eliminate plants entirely from our diet.
‘The carnivore diet is about removing naturally occurring anti-nutrients and defensive toxins found in plants,’ Dr Ede tells me. ‘It’s not that all plants ‘must’ be eliminated, it’s that some plant foods contain so many toxins and provide so few nutrients that the risk of consuming them far outweighs any potential benefits for most people.’
When we hear the word ‘toxins’, we immediately think of environmental pollutants like pesticides. But here the toxins in question are those found naturally in plants, the little defence systems they deploy to stop them being eaten.
These natural toxins are understood by most experts to be completely harmless and part of the nutrient rich make-up of plants.
Yet the carnivore scientists are adamant it’s these toxins which are causing the rise in mental health problems and auto-immune disease. They think plants are bad for you, and especially the lentils and green, leafy vegetables I have taught myself to adore. Most nutritional scientists and cardiologists say going carnivore is rather a death wish.
‘There is evidence to support a high-fat diet helping your brain – but long-term it’s unsustainable,’ says Dr Federica Amati, author of Every Body Should Know This and a research fellow at Imperial College London.
‘My advice is to steer clear. We need a variety of nutrients from lots of different whole foods.’
But what if carnivore eating could help? I’m curious. And honestly, I’m so desperate right now, I’m willing to give anything a go. So I have decided to try it for ten days.
Whatever happens, my butcher will be delighted…
DAY ONE: THREE EGGS AND A RIBEYE STEAK
A strict carnivore diet requires taking about two-thirds or more of your calories from fat and the rest from protein. Zero carbs are allowed, so zero fibre. You also need to salt food well (or take electrolytes) and drink lots of water due to the changes in the body as it adapts to burning fats.
On the carnivore diet you can eat ribeye steak all day, every day (which has an average 73/26 fat to protein ratio). You can eat three eggs with a ton of butter and salt.
This is what I have for breakfast on the first day. I look longingly at chives imagining them adorning my buttery scramble.
But rules are rules. I clear out the fridge and hand my sister all the fresh soups, fruits, veggies and pulses – or poison as I must now think of them.
She offers me some Vietnamese chicken curry and I have to eat it naked – no rice, no sauce, just chicken. I feel like a fussy pain. So far, this is everything I hate about diets: cranky, alienating, restrictive and expensive. I’m grumpy.
I don’t think about food for hours though and suddenly realise I am hangry as hell.
I throw a ribeye in a pan and fry it with an egg, salt and pepper. I eat it all. I do not give the fat to the dogs, who are disappointed. It is incredibly delicious and I feel deeply sated.
DAY THREE: I START TO SMELL OF DRIPPING
Three eggs for breakfast fried in butter. My brain screams toast, toast, toast so much I can actually smell it. Being a strict carnivore means having no coffee as it comes from a plant. I ignore this.
After breakfast I am outside playing with the dogs when I am struck by how I feel. Calm, neutral. Not anxious, just neutral.
It’s been three days now without a bowel movement. I find this an alarming thought but, strangely, not uncomfortable physically.
That evening I break from my fat rations to take a distressing call.
A close friend has colon cancer. Rates of colorectal cancer have been rising in the under-50s and decreasing in older adults. Possible causes are a rise in sedentary lifestyles, heavy alcohol use and low-fibre, high-fat diets.
Hmmm. Food for thought. This news does not make me feel comfortable about my supper. Another steak.
Dr Amati says: ‘If you have a pre-disposition to colorectal cancer, just six months of a carnivore diet could be enough to trigger a significantly increased risk.
‘A high red-meat, zero-fibre diet flies in the face of huge epidemiological data from tens of thousands of people.’
Dr Ede, however, believes there is no evidence that meat causes colon cancer, nor that saturated fat and elevated bad cholesterol levels cause heart disease. There is no need to eat plants, she maintains, when we can get everything we need from animals.
I am confused.
And I smell of dripping.
My mood is still steady. I feel very good. But at what cost?
Around £20 a meal, as it goes. Ribeye is not cheap.
DAY FIVE: FEELING NICELY GROUNDED
There really is nothing like the unctuous Marmite-y flavour of the crisp-cooked edge of beef fat on a mid-week morning. Even when you’ve eaten it every day for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It’s so delicious I just rip the meat off and eat it until I’m full.
The next few days are going to be miserable as I hunt for somewhere to live. I expect to feel grim, but find I’m approaching the planning and the finances with a clear-eyed, bright and, dare I say, unemotional practicality. This is refreshing, even if the dripping isn’t.
Since my diagnosis, I have taken medication for ADHD called dexamfetamine. It has taken a while to work out the right dose – too much and I feel like a speeding train; too little and I feel more anxious than if I’d taken nothing.
Yesterday I took half the normal amount of medication for a good working day and it helped me more than I have ever known.
Instead of a slightly wired awareness of being on stimulants, I don’t notice it at all. I feel normal. I feel like the old me – a younger, more carefree me.
Still, I miss toast.
Dr Ede tells me plants don’t have to be banished for ever.
‘Many carnivores choose to include small amounts of herbs, teas, pepper, coffee, and wine,’ she says. ‘Where you draw the line depends on whether these additions make the diet more sustainable without impeding your mental health goals.’
To assist my experimentation, she recommends measuring my ketone levels – the form of energy made by fat – in my blood and maintain a level between one and three.
In order to measure this, I buy a gadget called Keto-Mojo, which compares glucose and ketone levels, and, remarkably, I can see it working. When ketones are up around 1.5 or so, I feel almost spookily grounded and steady. Cause or coincidence?
For the past 18 months, even if chatting or laughing or doing relaxing things like watching a film or walking the dogs, I was always on edge. I was jumpy, waiting for the worst to happen.
Last night, I just lay by the fire staring at the flames and fell asleep.
DAY SEVEN: I CRAVE A SALAD
I call Ally Houston, a PhD student at the University of Oxford who runs a coaching service ‘for people who want to switch to carnivore and keto and use metabolic psychiatry for… conditions like attention issues, brain fog, menopause and anxiety’.
He sends me an image of his lunch: smoked haddock fried until crispy in plenty of beef dripping (his favourite calorie source), four soft poached eggs, some keto-friendly mayo, a little sherry vinegar, salt and pepper.
It looks tasty but all I clock is the sheen of the dripping. My house smells of beef fat. I want a salad.
Houston is conducting a study into ‘ketogenic eating, ADHD and its associated depressive symptoms’ at Oxford with funding from the Baszucki Brain Research Fund. The fund was set up by a computer games multi-millionaire and his wife whose teenage son worked with an American metabolic psychiatrist called Chris Palmer, and has appeared to cure his bipolar disorder with a carnivore diet.
I tell Ally I can’t go through life just eating beef.
‘Choose foods you love,’ he replies.
We settle on tinned sardines with eggs. ‘Make sure you fry them in dripping,’ he warns.
All this dripping. It’s like the 1950s but without the bread to slather it on.
DAY NINE: CHOCOLATE CAKE IS IRRESISTIBLE
For all my loathing of the endless tallow, this morning I wake up bursting with hope and full
of beans. I sit next to a diabetic at dinner and show her my ketone gadget and joke that I plan to be so keto I get up to nine on the counter. She rolls her eyes and says that’s deadly stupid.
I have a glass of red wine (to rebalance my ketones, you understand). The bread winks at me. I order the starter and main but without all the other stuff. Naked meat only for me. Then I sneak a small piece of bread and put loads of butter on it to try to hide the carbs from my metabolism. I eat some cauliflower. And have another glass of wine. And a sliver of chocolate cake…
DAY TEN: SCRATCHY MOODS ARE BACK
My ketones are down to 0.4 (no doubt due to the bread and chocolate). I am no longer in ketosis. I hate diets.
Despite my misgivings and complete confusion, despite the total nuttiness of the diet, I find life a whole lot sunnier as a carnivore.
Studies into the effectiveness of a keto diet on mental health and things like ADHD might be in their infancy and, if it does help –as it seemed to with me – we cannot know at what possibly devastating cost to physical health.
But one thing I do know is that when I end my carnivore diet and go back to normal-ish sensible eating (I am still a bit scared of bread), my scratchy mood comes back.
So I had lamb, anchovies and a daring handful of olives for breakfast, and my mood is picking up…
