How prunes turned it all around

Like most women, I have had issues with my weight and food. In fact, for a while, when I was in my early teens, I was anorexic. I worry as I type those words. There are many anorexic-girl-haters out there. I understand your frustration. But I don’t know what to say to you except that we don’t do it on purpose. I swear. Nobody would.

Other than that blip in my teens, I have always been a good eater. I have however also always been especially conscious of weight and size. When I was in kindergarten, my friends and I used to pretend to be Disney princesses. I always ended up as Snow White. Mostly because with her dark hair and eyes, she looked almost Chinese (which I liked) but also partly because she was slightly chunky or, to be more politically correct, pleasantly round (which I did not like).

But by far the worst incident exposing my strong weight prejudices occurred the year I turned twelve. Every now and then I still feel sinking pangs of regret that that year at summer camp, I asked a rotund facilitator if “he was always that fat”.

I didn’t mean to. It just came out. I was thinking it and when it came my turn to ask him a question (I believe we were doing an exercise to get better acquainted) and I didn’t have one prepared, it just slipped out (I say stupid stupid things when I have to speak in public unprepared). I have often hoped it would give him comfort to know that only a year later I was anorexic. But deep down I know he wouldn’t, he was far too nice for that.

But I tell you this not to elicit anger at my selfishness or pity for my “special” plight (unfortunately, girls with eating disorders are dime a dozen these days). I tell you this as means of expressing my love and gratitude for the humble prune (plus, writing is cathartic and it seems long ago enough now that it doesn’t hurt to share).

The anorexic girl of the dried fruit world, the prune is hated and ridiculed for its laxative properties. But I don’t care. Prunes turned it all around for me.

It happened at this crepe place called Out of the Pan. I had a crepe stuffed with mascarpone and poached prunes (I may have still been 32kg but I was beginning to understand I needed to get better). It was extremely rich of course but it was also complex and fruity. Once in the mouth, the prunes collapsed into a puddle of juice and mixed with the mascarpone to form a deep creamy sauce. I loved it.

Anyone who knows a little about eating disorders will tell you that it is all about control. You feel that you can’t control anything in your life, so you control how much you eat. And it was at the moment that pricey cheese met tongue that I realised one could control not only the quantity of food one ate but also the quality. Thus began my road to recovery.



From then on stewed prunes and mascarpone on toast entered my breakfast rotation. My method was nothing to be imitated. It came from a very basic cookbook found in my secondary school library. The recipe called for the prunes to be microwaved in some earl gray. It did the job, but these days I use this recipe from Orangette. It is worlds better.

Stewed prunes and mascarpone on toast

Stewed prunes and mascarpone on toast was the dish that reacclimatised my palate and stomach to cream. And that of course that opened the door to cake consumption (for which my eating abilities are legendary) but that’s another story. For now, I will leave you with the only recipe that I can truly claim changed my life.

5-7 Stewed Prunes, with some of their syrup
A generous spoonful of mascarpone
A thick slice of bread (I like a dense and hearty wholegrain bread for this)

Toast the bread to desired doneness. Dollop a spoonful of mascarpone on to the toast and smooth it out with the back of the spoon. Artfully spoon over the prunes and drizzle with syrup. Eat.

Serves 1.