Andrew Kay: Dairy intolerant

After years of dissing food fads … Andrew Kay falls foul of a glass of milk

Okay okay, hands up here, I am guilty of being somewhat cynical about people who claim to have allergies and food intolerances. Why confess this now? You may well ask.

It all started so well. Our most recent International Chef Exchange brought Chef Tony Leck of The Pavilion over from Guernsey. It was a terrific event at The Ginger Pig, where head chef Semone Bonner was host. We spent a few days here in Sussex filming such joys as the tiny (and excellent) smoked fish shop on the lower promenade, where both chefs were blown away by the quality of Jack and Linda’s salmon and mackerel, and declared their kippers the best they had ever tried. Later that day we went to the Cider and Perry collection at the marvelous Middle farm. With a visit from a forager and a butcher, it all went swingingly well.

Later that same week we flew to Guernsey, an emotional return for me after a forty year absence. To say I was looking forward to it would be seriously underplaying my excitement.

“At 11.30pm I was icy cold and literally quaking”

Night one, we dine well at Le Petite Bistro. Day two, we filmed Chef Bonner cooking his ICEx dinner – more details in my food column – and in the afternoon we made a trip to film at a farm. It was idyllic, really peaceful and so beautiful. At the end of the trip we were offered fresh milk, raw or unpasteurised milk.

I’m not unaware that some people think it is not a good idea to drink this, but it was all so nice, and the interest of the film – much like all the other weird stuff I down – I accepted a glass, and it was delicious.
That was at about 3.30pm.

By 6pm, I didn’t feel great. I was woozy and running a temperature. I excused myself and had a cold shower and a sleep in preparation for the evening ICEx dinner which I host and compere.

By 7pm I braced myself to meet the crowd and the camera, and I got through … just!

By 11pm the team were ready to party. I was not. I had an obvious fever and felt grim so I made my excuses, reluctantly, and went to my room.

At 11.30pm I was icy cold and shaking, not shivering but literally quaking. I thought I could weather it, but within a few minutes I got sensible and realised it was serious. I called the concierge, who acted fast and called an ambulance, and by midnight I was in A&E.

The following few days were about as scary as it gets. From A&E I was moved to a private room, but at 7am the quakes returned and I was dashed up to Intensive Care where I spent the next three days being closely monitored.

I’m back – a little thinner and feeble, and shocked. Twice in those few days my body started to shut down; that’s the ‘nice way’ the doctors described it. It was scary as all hell, and I am so grateful to the entire team at The Princess Elizabeth Hospital in Guernsey and to my friend Mr M, who stayed with me through the worst of it.

All from a glass of milk! I hasten to add that nobody else got sick, just me, so it must have been a food allergy or intolerance, or me picking up a bug at some point that day.

Needless to say, I will not be drinking raw milk again. It’s simply not worth it.

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