ALEXANDRA SHULMAN’S NOTEBOOK: Faddy eating has got out of control

I’ve been helping to organise a celebration weekend for a friend and, as you do nowadays, checked on any dietary requirements. 

Ever wished you hadn’t asked the question? Red meat, lentils, chickpeas, nuts, mussels, clams, wheat and – oddly – tripe, came up on the list of no-no’s.

Trying to devise a menu is like one of those childhood maths questions: if John has eight bananas and Susie has two apples and Mike eats a banana and an apple and adds an orange, what is John left with?

Faddy eating has got out of control. Of course, someone who has a serious food intolerance should be looked after, and I’m not suggesting that guests should be made to sit in front of their plates till they’re empty, as we were as children, but the idea that individual preferences should be catered for is incredibly over-privileged and self-indulgent.

As the food in this country has improved in every way, it’s ironic that increasing numbers of people have self-imposed restrictions on what they’re prepared to eat.

And so having friends over for dinner can involve the host offering multi-dishes.

I used to think it was fine for vegetarians, or what used to be the very rare vegan, to just eat the vegetables and leave the chicken I was serving. 

I’ve been helping to organise a celebration weekend for a friend and, as you do nowadays, checked on any dietary requirements. Ever wished you hadn’t asked the question? [File photo]

Now I feel I have to whisk up something inventive with chickpeas for them. And that’s without paying attention to the no-carb gang who turn green at the sight of pasta or potatoes. 

I recently served lasagna at a friend’s birthday party and one of the guests asked me: ‘Carbs! What were you thinking?’ But it’s completely generational. 

The other day I was talking to a caterer who had done the food for 500 people at an octogenarian’s birthday. How many dietary requirements do you think there were? Not a single one.

I turned invisible… sitting in a Paris cafe

Last week I spent a few days in Paris for work. I always love sitting alone with a book in one of those corner cafes watching the world go by. But being ignored by the waiters? Not so much.

As a woman on her own, it took much longer for me to get attention than it did any man, in every bar and restaurant I visited.

In one place, it took 30 minutes before the waiter took my order of a glass of white wine, which then took a leisurely 20 minutes more to make its appearance. 

During that time, the soigne gentleman at the next table was able to order not only several glasses of Beaujolais but get served a caesar salad, gobble it up and pay the bill.

As a woman on her own, it took much longer for me to get attention than it did any man, in every bar and restaurant I visited [File photo]

Axe exams… that’s the smart answer

It’s that terrible time of year – exam season. Who doesn’t remember the horror of them? The seemingly impossible task of remembering so much information. 

The ghastly moment of turning over the paper and realising that you hadn’t a clue about at least one of the questions in front of you. Personally, I think exams should be abolished.

They serve no real function other than to stress the whole family out, nobody pays any attention to how many GCSEs you have once you’re in your 20s, and the ability to regurgitate information in a designated period of time demonstrates nothing other than that you have a good memory.

In these days of Google, exams have even less validity. It would be far better to put the educational emphasis on whether pupils have learnt initiative, resilience and how to research for what they need to know.

One of the most cheering pieces of information I share with young people going through exams is that even though I was educated at one of the best schools in the country, I passed only five O-levels. It makes them feel a whole lot smarter.

Perfect excuse to let loose your inner Cher

Tomorrow is the annual Met Gala, the most extravagant red carpet fashion show of the year. 

Unlike some award ceremonies where celebrities get queasy about looking as if they are too pre-occupied by what they are wearing, this event is in aid of the New York Metropolitan Museum’s Costume Institute, so everyone’s got a free pass to indulge their inner Cher.

With ‘Camp’ as the theme and Lady Gaga and Harry Styles as hosts, looking at who turns up wearing what is going to be a hoot.

Dark horse Rory, my hot tip for No 10

Trying to keep track of who’s who in the Cabinet is no easy task. The turnaround is so continual that nobody can possibly achieve anything much in their role before it’s all change. 

No sooner have they laid out their plan for their department than they’re either fired for treachery or reshuffled some place and a joker gets to the top of the pack.

On the women front, it’s good to see our first female Defence Secretary in the recent turn-around. I hope Penny Mordaunt takes some tips from the wonderful Cressida Dick, who is leading the Metropolitan Police with a quiet, humane authority.

It’s unfortunate he got moved on before he had time to action many of his plans for prison reform but it might not matter too much in the long run because I’ve got a bet on Stewart creeping up the ranks as the dark horse for Prime Minister [File photo] 

More interesting, though, is former Prisons Minister Rory Stewart’s appointment as International Development Secretary.

Unusually for the Cabinet, the man who’s got the job is someone who has some track record in the field, having spent a considerable part of his working life in Indonesia, Iraq and Afghanistan.

It’s unfortunate he got moved on before he had time to action many of his plans for prison reform but it might not matter too much in the long run because I’ve got a bet on Stewart creeping up the ranks as the dark horse for Prime Minister.

Aretha’s lesson for flashy Queen Bey

Anyone who has seen Beyoncé’s Netflix documentary Homecoming should also see the brilliant Amazing Grace film, released last month after years of legal battles. It’s an interesting contrast.

This live recording of Aretha Franklin’s gospel concert in 1972 at a Baptist church in LA shows a woman who can raise the roof and the spirits by her voice alone, without the aid of complex cinematography and an army of dancers to get an inspirational point across.