Howdy friend. You’ve stumbled across an old article. I believe in real food and support anyone – celebrity or otherwise – in their advocacy of nutritional medicine. This doesn’t mean that I support all of the views they express on their own platforms.

Food for thought? Nope, today it’s formula.

I have a soft spot for Pete Evans, despite the fact that he hates on the grain family which includes my close mates Rice, Oats and Buckwheat.

The media, however, love to hate him and I can see why.

The man is outspoken about topics for which he is deemed ‘unqualified’. It is irritating when people flaunt their opinion in a way that comes across as gospel truth. That said, I emphasise with Pete.

He’s in the ‘preachy epiphany phase’ of his life and being a celebrity, is in the public eye whilst doing so.

He’s released the book above and the press are shitting kittens. Is that even a term? Let’s say that it is. Is any one still reading?

It contained a DIY baby formula recipe that contained unconventional – by modern standards – ingredients.

Evidently, it was a risky move.

Especially when you’re Pete Evans and the press consider it a hobby to crucify your every move.

We can all agree that breast milk will always be the safest, cheapest and most nutritious infant fuel. But not all babies latch. Not all babies tolerate. Not all mums express.

What to do? Die?

Heck no! Formula.

But most of what’s available doesn’t hold a candle to breast milk. Some children thrive on formula whilst others – in addition to not tolerating their own mother’s milk – spit it up as though it’s Satanic sweat.

Now we gots ourselves a pickle. What do we feed the baby?

Pete’s co-author Charlotte Carr asked herself this very question when she faced such a dilemma herself. Breast milk? No Deal. Formula – each and every one of ’em? No Dice. She found a recipe and made her own. Her baby survived. Pete knew her husband. He asked her to write a book with him. She said yes. They shared her (modified) recipe amongst other quirky creations. Humans got angry. Now I’m writing about it.

I don’t know whether or not it was ideal to share the recipe in the current climate of naysaying. What I do wonder is why everyone is so damn opinionated. Can we please leave Charlotte Carr alone?

If I were a passionate fangirl this is the part where I’d ugly cry, upload a video of my tantrum that goes viral and have people questioning my sanity and sexuality. Joking. Charlotte Carr is not Brittany Spears and I like her a normal, heterosexual amount

Dear media. If you’re reading – which I highly doubt you are – I would like more space reserved for people like The Barefoot Investor and anyone with a heartwarming animal rescue story. Demonising mothers that happen to have the good fortune to publish a book with a best-selling author/chef is poor taste. Even if you think that the poor taste is any drink containing liver, which I’ll grant you, is a fair point.

This isn’t Salem. We aren’t living in the 1600’s. Do I have the century right? Please comment if the witch trials were held in an alternate era. Please don’t boil Pete and Char in a steaming pot of their homemade bone broth just because the doctors you interviewed reckon powdered milk solids and synthetic vitamins are a superior alternative.

We’re adults. Being an adult means accepting that we all have different opinions and co-exist peacefully despite them. We can even learn from one another. May I suggest that we stop squabbling about vitamizing organ meats? Like most polarising issues, arguing is getting us nowhere.