If the British public is still so terrified of fruit and veg, it’s time for a bit of lateral thinking

I was married to a burly Canadian once, who had been a professional footballer. He was a real macho man – except if someone put a tomato on his plate. He would recoil in fear, and step away from the table

I love vegetables and even grow my own, but the way they are sold is unappealing (NYT)

Why do some people find fruit and veg frightening and repugnant? New figures show we only spend a measly 7.2 per cent of our weekly food bill (a third of what experts recommend) on fresh produce.

Faced with an obesity crisis and a rise in Type 2 diabetes, successive governments have spent vast amounts of public money trying to persuade us of the benefits of eating five fruit and veg a day – only for research to reveal the campaigns have had zero impact, and we are consuming less.

The nagging (health professionals call it “educational”) approach has yielded poor results, so maybe it’s time for more subtle tactics. The Food Foundation, an independent think tank, wants retailers to adopt “nudge” tactics, like repositioning fruit and vegetables at busy intersections within supermarkets, placing apples instead of chocolates at checkouts, renaming produce so that it sounds sexy, and copying the blurb on pre-packaged ready meals. How about a “twisted citrus-glazed carrot”?

I love vegetables and even grow my own, but the way they are sold is unappealing. My local Co-op in North Yorkshire (and most mini-markets) now sells the majority in horrible plastic-covered packs, not loose and priced by weight.

Far too many vegetables are offered already sliced up, curling up and drying out in their packaging.

As for rearranging aisles, I’d like £5 for every time Sainsbury’s alter their layout – why can’t they issue a roadmap as you enter?

I understand vegetable fear can be very deep-seated – I was married to a burly Canadian once, who had been a professional footballer. He was a real macho man – except if someone put a tomato on his plate.

He would recoil in fear, and step away from the table. God knows what caused that phobia, but all tomatoes had to be liquidised in our house. These days, he’d probably be eligible for counselling.