Words: Rebekah McCrorie (she/her)
is this raw, meat-focussed craze truly a way of cleansing the body of sinful contaminants, or is it merely the latest fad in a conveyor belt of food trends that leave us feeling dissatisfied?
Take one look at the grub devoured by uncannily buff TikTok “gym bros”, and you’d think that their meals were rustled up by cavemen (if cavemen had access to stable WiFi and overpriced gym memberships). Whilst these brawny influencers aren’t hurling spears at woolly mammoths, they’ve opted for eating habits akin to those alive during the Paleolithic period. Cans of Irn Bru are swapped for gut-cleansing juices, and Big Macs are replaced with medium-rare steaks, fried eggs, and lashings of avocado, all served upon a wooden chopping board. Additives and E numbers are deemed sacrilege, for only pure comestibles are deemed worthy enough to be ingested. Even milk, the first thing we consumed as babies, has been labelled “impure” by some hardcore clean eaters, unless sipped in its raw, untreated form. It’s not just the “gym bros” who eat like they’re living in the Stone Age: even “momfluencers”, and many others – both online and offline – have jumped on the raw milk bandwagon, turning a blind eye to associated health risks. Such unrefined food habits are the crème de la (unpasteurised) crème for many undertaking a strictly unprocessed diet, but with 88% of protein foods (including beef and meat-free alternatives) containing microplastics, is this raw, meat-focussed craze truly a way of cleansing the body of sinful contaminants, or is it merely the latest fad in a conveyor belt of food trends that leave us feeling dissatisfied?
Cast your mind back to the 2010s, when veganism was à la mode, and everyone and their mother was indulging in tofu and cauliflower steaks. Meat was vetoed by those embarking on a plant-based pilgrimage, ambrosial variations of avocado toast flooded Instagram feeds, and almond milk was the newest fad. Whilst many sipped on Unicorn Frappuccinos and munched rainbow-dyed bagels, vegans espoused meat and dairy, which came with a hefty price tag. Going green came at the expense of your wallet; the meat-shaped hole left in people’s stomachs left an equally as large hole in their bank accounts. So, what happened along the production line to twist the latest food fad from a herbivore diet to a carnivore diet? Why has grub gone back in time, when, in other aspects of our overconsumed lives, we’re relentlessly modernising, upgrading, and searching for the next big thing (read: latest landfill-destined piece of tat)?
Perhaps the answer lies with the sagacious “gym bros”, after all. With rises in “manosphere” content and toxic masculinity as noxious as the microplastics found in our food, immense pressure has been placed upon the malignant idea of a macho, muscly, masculine man. It’s only natural that their diets would also follow these “3 Ms”, so piling their plates with high-protein, raw delicacies that would make a caveman salivate doesn’t seem too absurd when mixed with outdated depictions of the male archetype.
Amidst fast-fashion and a new iPhone coming out pretty much every second, there has been an unnerving cultivation of traditional ideals, both online and offline, as seen in “tradwife” content. One eminent “tradwife”, Hannah Neeleman of Ballerina Farm, frequently promotes the so-called benefits of raw milk, even selling it to her loyal viewers. In essence, the caveman-esque diet offers these “gym bros” the illusion of hunting for their food, allowing them to live out their masculine fantasies, whereas veganism has connotations of caring for the planet and respecting animals, which juxtaposes the inherently violent nature of stalking and attacking prey. That’s not to say women can’t enjoy rare steak (I’m a sucker for a sirloin), but rather these extreme diets are reflective of archaic gender roles.
If you’re wanting to get your hands on some raw milk in Scotland, you’ll need a bucket, gloves, and a cow, because the distribution of raw milk in supermarkets and shops is illegal here. However, if you’re after a less-processed diet, M&S has made it easy for you by coming out with a plethora of provisions with minimal ingredients, fittingly called Only…Ingredients products. Though they’re not on par with the Paleolithic feasts of “gym bros”, it’s a sign that supermarket giants have caught on to this trend of raw and pure diets, spurning those pesky additives. When you look closely, it’s all intertwined into one tangled cobweb of conservatism, consumerism, toxic masculinity, and humanity’s fatal flaw of being so utterly, easily influenced.
Feeling peckish is a fundamentally human sensation, yet the way we eat has never been simple. Before they even reach our mouths, the products we consume are impacted by politics and societal issues, and narratives of what’s seemingly acceptable to eat are shoved down our throats. We’re force-fed, yet remain hungry for more. “Clean eating” won’t line our stomachs when the next repackaged food trend is only two minutes away from inception: we, as a society, will never be wholly satiated.
