Toronto author theorizes that vitamins and ‘better-for-you food’ could be contributing to obesity

A few years back, I was treated to an unforgettable meal in one of Bologna’s great old osterias.

It kicked off with grilled octopus and moved on to gnocchi in cream sauce. Much to the surprise of all the North Americans at the table, that was hardly the end. Half-finished pasta dishes were whisked away and replaced with the main — an entire roast capon. Each. Dessert was a non-starter for most everyone.

It was all delicious, of course, but what was more memorable was our amazement that our host (rail-thin, by the way) thought we’d be able to eat all that food. It seemed like the Italians had their own version of the “French paradox,” wherein Parisians feast on full-fat cheese and foie gras and still fit into Chanel suits.

“The idea of a French paradox in Italy is even more compelling, because the rates of obesity are much lower than in France,” says Toronto-based science journalist Mark Schatzker and author of the influential book, “The Dorito Effect.” “Bologna is particularly curious because the food they eat and celebrate is very rich. It’s pasta, it’s meat, it’s cheese, it’s cream — all the things we think of as dangerous indulgences. And they turn it into a high art.”

This ain’t the Mediterranean diet. And, despite this, this region of Italy boasts one of the lowest rates of obesity in the developed western world — under 10 per cent. By comparison, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 42 per cent of Americans are obese.

In his new book, “The End of Craving,” Schatzker advances a novel new thesis to help explain the disparity, which involves, among other things, the possibility that we might be getting too many vitamins, specifically, niacin (also known as B-3), which is found in a lot of fortified food.

“It sounds totally nuts,” he says. “We’ve grown up thinking that vitamins are pure, innocent and unblemished. They contain the word ‘vital’ in them and without them you die. So how could they be implicated in this terrible problem we have with eating?”

The story starts with pellagra, a fatal disease that was associated with malnutrition and plagued various poor regions around the world, including, in the early 20th century, the southern United States — the “pellagra belt.” After the discovery of vitamins, it was possible to narrow the cause down to the lack of a single vitamin, niacin. Southerners, whose diet was dominated by grits (cornmeal mush), which are low in niacin, simply weren’t getting enough.

The solution was also simple: Fortify basic staples, such as flour, with niacin. Pellagra was quickly eradicated.

It took longer to solve this vitamin deficiency in another pellagra belt — northern Italy. There, la cucina povera (poor kitchen) revolved around polenta (also cornmeal mush) but, instead of adding vitamins to the food, Italian authorities encouraged people to eat more vitamin-rich food.

“In Italy, they encouraged people to raise rabbits, use communal bread ovens and drink more wine, which, at the time, had more yeast, which is a great source of niacin,” Schatzker explains. “They didn’t know that about the wine, they just thought it was good for you.”

“It seems medieval but, oddly enough, it worked,” he continues. “Italy ate its way out of pellagra.”

A century later, the former pellagra belt in the U.S. is now the obesity belt. In Italy’s former pellagra belt, obesity is relatively uncommon.

There are surely factors at play other than niacin. For one thing, much of northern Italy is now wealthy, whereas many in the southern United States experience poverty. Schatzker thinks niacin plays a role, though, since the vitamin has a well-established metabolic effect. Feedlot pigs, for example, are generally dosed up with niacin, which makes them gain weight on a standard corn and/or soy diet much more quickly.

More importantly perhaps, the pellagra fortification story shines a light on some big differences between the way we approach food here and in many parts of Europe.

The first of these differences is the North American urge to “fix” food, by making it low-fat, low-sugar and vitamin-packed. All these things sound great but, a growing body of research suggests all these fixes may be wreaking havoc with the way our brains calculate the amount of food we need to eat.

“The food environment is saturated with additives that confuse the brain about the caloric content of food,” Schatzker says. “Let’s use the example of artificial sweeteners in drinks. When we consume a drink that tastes like it’s got about 75 calories of sugar, but has less, we get confused and that confusion literally screws up the way calories are metabolized.”

Many of us are familiar with the idea that ultra-processed food contains higher levels of fat, salt and sugar than our brains expect and so it’s easy to overeat. Food “mismatches,” though, appear to be a problem in the other direction, too. So, “better-for-you” foods, be they sugar-free, low-fat or meat-free meat, all might be causing metabolic chaos, which, in turn, triggers stronger cravings. If we’re not sure we’re getting what we need, the default position is to want more — just to be safe.

Given the amount of new and improved food out there, this could be a big problem. Is there a way to get brains back online and combat cravings? Schatzker thinks it might be time to take a page out of the Italian book and try to eat our way out of obesity.

“I think we have to look at it as who we are as eaters and how we evolved to eat,” he says. “The pleasure that food gives us isn’t bad and it’s not designed to kill us. It’s a guide telling us what we should pursue.”

“I think it’s so interesting to look at the Italians, because they love food and they don’t literally pay a heavy price for it,” he adds. “I just think it’s a much better way to eat. And a better way to live.”

Looks like I should have had that dessert, after all.