Over a year ago, our family decided to remove ultra-processed foods (UPFs) from our diet. It all started when our daughter was 16 months old, and the weaning phase began. I was determined to provide her with “real food.” Little did I know, this decision would not only transform our meals but also shift our family dynamics significantly.
Historically, my fiancé, Brett, took the lead in cooking, but I found myself spending countless hours each week preparing meals, baking bread, and exploring new culinary approaches.
In my childhood, my dad, a professional chef before my time, was the one responsible for cooking at home. This unique arrangement meant my mom’s complex relationship with cooking didn’t affect me deeply. So when I met Brett, I was relieved to learn he enjoyed cooking.
Back in our early twenties, our meals largely consisted of UPFs. Breakfast bars for convenience, meal deals for lunch, and weekends filled with takeaways and ready-to-eat meals — Brett typically handled dinner, featuring his usual curry or pasta dishes.
We never really considered the impact of our UPF consumption. While Brett consciously avoided jarred sauces, our understanding of what constituted “unhealthy” was limited.
‘I was deep in the world of low-fat UPFs’
By our daughter’s arrival in October 2024, both of us were nearing 30 and had updated our diets slightly. While weekends were no longer characterized by cider and pizza, UPFs still disguised themselves in my diet as “healthy” choices.
In my effort to shed some weight, I dived into the world of low-fat yoghurts, bagel thins, and 99-calorie snacks, unaware that these were UPFs. While Brett prepared our meals, I would dictate our grocery choices.
As we discussed the importance of shared family meals while approaching the weaning stage, I started seeing a growing awareness about the negative health impacts of UPFs. It felt as though a flood of information was washing over me.
A study published in June 2025 in the American Journal of Preventive Medicine revealed that UPFs, which supplied 53 percent of calorie intake in the UK on average, were linked to 14 percent of premature deaths. These foods were also associated with over 30 health issues, including heart disease, cancer, and diabetes.
Recent research from Harvard, the University of Michigan, and Duke University even drew alarming parallels between UPF production methods and those of cigarettes. Understanding this, it was no surprise that over a third of Brits support a ban on such foods. As I delved deeper into research, I realized just how many UPFs were hidden in our pantry. Though I’m not immune to dietary trends, this felt more profound.
It was about providing my daughter with nourishment that would aid her development. To ensure family mealtimes together, we knew change was necessary. For instance, NHS guidelines suggest full-fat dairy until the age of two, marking the end of my low-fat swaps. Additionally, we decided to eliminate store-bought stock due to its high salt content.
‘I became fixated on ingredient lists’
During my maternity leave, cooking for her became my responsibility. It began gradually — first one meal a day, then two, progressing to all her snacks. Often, I’d find myself urgently consulting my dad or Brett for cooking tips.
Before long, I became obsessed with reading ingredient lists. While I recognized obvious offenders, I was surprised to discover that even my usual bread contained unnecessary additives. During nap times, I began experimenting with homemade alternatives. Soon, I was preparing meals not just for her, but for the entire family, batch cooking and filling our freezer.
There were some failures, but many successes too. My beetroot brownies have become a favorite among family and friends—much to everyone’s surprise. On the eve of our daughter’s first birthday, we stayed up until 11 PM baking her a four-tiered chocolate cake that turned out a bit chaotic, but that was all part of the fun.
Through this experience, I realized two significant truths: first, I genuinely enjoyed cooking; second, the kitchen had shifted from Brett’s domain to mine.
While eliminating UPFs is primarily about home-cooked meals, I underestimated the amount of effort required for consistent meal prep. Each dish, our daughter’s favorite snacks, and homemade sauces required preparation, along with shopping and cleaning up afterward.
While Brett still cooks on occasion—he’s the master of steak nights—the bulk of planning, preparation, and batch cooking rests on me. Most Sundays, you’ll find me elbows-deep in sausage rolls or fish cakes while cakes or loaves cool nearby.
Logically, this arrangement makes sense. I’m a full-time mom juggling freelance writing, while Brett works all week and cherishes time with our daughter on weekends. Yet, I’m also conscious that what began as a health choice has inadvertently shifted the balance of labor in our marriage.
We often joke that I’ve become a “tradwife,” especially when Brett takes homemade bread and cake to work. And, no, I don’t prepare it for him. Most of the time, I find it amusing; I know he appreciates my efforts and contributes whenever he can.
However, there have been stressful moments. Disagreements arise, particularly when he’s late for dinner or says he’s not hungry because of a “late lunch.” I don’t blame him for it. Though my mom never cooked, I always knew I’d assume some kitchen responsibilities—I just now do it on a larger scale. Yet, I worry about the message this sends to my daughter. I want to ensure she doesn’t grow up thinking that the kitchen is strictly a woman’s space; we must shape that narrative ourselves.
For now, I divide my time between writing during naptime and kid care. I plan to increase my writing output this year, but being home means cooking remains my primary duty. I do look forward to retiring from this role when the children are older.
Surprisingly, switching away from UPFs hasn’t significantly impacted our budget. In fact, by eliminating these foods, I’ve been motivated to plan our meals. Our grocery expenses average £85 weekly for our family of three, whereas we used to spend over £100 as a couple. We always exercised caution during the week, but weekends would often take a toll on our wallets.
Nonetheless, we have invested in additional cooking tools, from baking trays to electric whisks and blenders, totaling a few hundred pounds.
Shifting away from UPFs has indeed been a learning experience. I’ve developed a much healthier relationship with food and have come to understand how it nourishes the body. Physically, I feel better than I have in years. Despite a history of calorie counting, I’ve lost weight without effort, my skin looks clearer, and I have more energy.
Our meals haven’t drastically changed. We still enjoy pizza, but now we make the dough together as a family. We still indulge in treats, though they’re homemade. Often, I stick to simple classics like chili, spaghetti bolognese, and curry. Burrito nights are a household favorite, especially since I’ve perfected homemade wraps.
In many aspects, the benefits are undeniable. Yet, I recognize that this is feasible because I’m home full-time. I also know that one day, our daughter will encounter sweets, crisps, and chicken nuggets. For now, our current approach feels sustainable, and we have no intention of returning to UPFs. I do believe it’s time for brands and supermarkets to meet the demand for more UPF-free options.
Sometimes, I reflect on my mom — she despises cooking, leading my dad to handle it all. Growing up in that setup felt liberating; I never pictured myself as the one in the kitchen. Yet here I am, proud to be part of a UPF-free household, but fully aware that eating this way goes beyond merely changing shopping habits.
