From Pizza to Pesto: Changing Your Perception of Junk Food Over Time

From Stress to Salad: Skipping Junk Food on a Rough Day

Earlier this week, I had a rubbish day. I was knee-deep in tasks for my web agency, WinuSoft, when I noticed that one of the key pages on our website had vanished. Not just any old page — this was a long, detailed one that we’d spent hours building and fine-tuning for SEO. (Don’t worry if that sounds technical — we’re not staying there.)

After some digging, I discovered that a third-party support person had accidentally deleted not one but two pages while working on the site. I was furious. Beyond the immediate stress, it meant hours of extra work just to put things back how they were, never mind merging in the other updates I’d made that day. It completely threw me off.

By dinner, I didn’t just want food — I wanted comfort. My first thought? Our pesto pasta salad. Rich, satisfying, and full of flavour: creamy avocado, pistachio nut pesto, dry fried tofu, tons of leaves, olives & other salad bits, and brown rice pasta. Not exactly traditional junk food, but it absolutely hit the spot.

What struck me most, though, was this: even though I’d had an emotional, frustrating day, my instinct wasn’t to order a takeaway or reach for something ultra-processed. I didn’t want chips or pizza. I craved something that felt comforting to me — something rooted in my plant-based diet, made from scratch, and clean. It made me realise just how much my perception of junk food has shifted over time — and how what we label as a “treat” changes more than we expect.

The Starbucks Shift

It reminded me of something else that happened recently. We used to love Starbucks. Actually, scratch that — we thought we loved Starbucks. It was a bit of a ritual on road trips. A frozen blend or a some sort of coffee with oat milk felt like a treat, especially after hours in the van. But the last time we went, it all felt… off.

Usually, I’d have an oat decaf flat white, and Lu would get an oat mocha. Nothing overly sweet or syrupy. The last trip was the first hot day in the UK this year, and we thought it might be oat Frappuccino time! Not covered in cream or anything, just a cool, slightly indulgent drink. I took a couple of sips… and it was all wrong. Sickly sweet. Weirdly fake. Like drinking a dessert that had been made in a lab. I threw it away and haven’t been back since.

That really drove it home: clean eating changes your taste buds. You stop craving junk food, and eventually, you stop even liking it. Food that used to feel comforting or exciting suddenly tastes wrong. Too sweet. Too processed. Too… something. And it’s not a moral judgement — it’s just that your body starts wanting different things.

This is great from a body point of view — it shows just how much your system recalibrates when you consistently eat clean. Your taste buds become more sensitive, your blood sugar feels more stable, and you stop being pulled toward that artificial high you used to chase.

That said… it’s also a bit annoying. Our summer evenings used to include mountain bike rides to Starbucks. It’s about 9 miles from us, and it was the perfect post-work escape when the weather was good. The route there is a mix of trails, fields, and a bit of road — just enough to feel like an adventure, but still make it home before dark. We didn’t go for the drinks alone; it was the experience, the ritual, the stop-and-sit of it all. And now… that stop doesn’t appeal anymore — which honestly says a lot about how a plant-based diet reshapes your habits and even your idea of what a “treat” is.

Redefining What Comfort Looks Like

When I was feeling rubbish this week and reached for a bowl of pasta salad instead of a pizza, it didn’t feel like discipline or restriction — it felt like the most natural response for someone who’s been living on a plant-based diet for years. Like that’s just what my body wanted. And I think that’s the real magic of long-term clean eating. It shifts your perception so gradually and deeply that it stops being about “good” or “bad” food, and just becomes about what feels good now.

Junk food stops being a reward. Whole, plant-based food becomes the thing you look forward to — the thing that actually feels like a treat.

But the change goes deeper than that. It’s not just that I didn’t fancy a takeaway or eating the rubbish left over from Miles’ birthday party (there’s a can of Pringles in the cupboard) — it’s that I didn’t even think of it. My default setting has changed. Food I once considered plain or sensible now feels like a treat. That pesto pasta salad? It’s creamy, rich, salty, tangy and crunchy. If I’d had that ten years ago, I might have felt like I was being good. But now, it feels indulgent in the best possible way — not because it’s loaded with junk food ingredients, but because I know it’ll make me feel better, not worse.

Comfort isn’t just about what’s familiar anymore — it’s about what supports me, what makes me feel good – both whilst I’m eating it and in the hours that follow.

We definitely miss the bike rides to Starbucks — but we’ll try new routes. I think the trick is to not stop anywhere commercial, but take your own treats with you and stop somewhere with a view. Or at an artisan coffee shop, but there’s nothing like that within riding distance from our house!

These are the quiet shifts you don’t expect when you start a plant-based diet — where real food becomes reward enough, and the old cravings just fade out. I’m okay with that. Because now, when everything’s gone a bit sideways and I want something grounding and satisfying, I already know what’s going to hit the spot — and it’s not takeaway. It’s not sugar. It’s not processed.

It’s a big bowl of pesto pasta salad, a deep breath, and knowing I’ve got this!