Instead, I grabbed pieces of fruit and (gasp) actual chocolate to munch on. Suddenly, a banana didn’t look like a protein-devoid snack, but a genuinely handy grab-and-go option that came with its own wrapper, a handful of gut-friendly prebiotics and – when paired with some nut butter – a far gentler glucose spike.
More than just seeing the ingredient list for what it was (huge profits for huge corporations), I was fed up with eating and yet not being satisfied. Bored of hitting my macros but not remembering with any pleasure what I had eaten in order to do so, I realised that once you make eating a game of numbers, you cease to get any joy from food.
“Most of them are just ultra-processed sweets in gym gear,” nutritionist, hormone specialist and author of Everything I Know About Hormones, Hannah Alderson deadpans. “With anything, though, context is critical,” she cautions. “Protein bars can have their place and are incredibly helpful when you’re on the go, but they absolutely shouldn’t be your main source of protein.”
With current recommendations citing 25g to 30g of protein as the best number to aim for per meal, a shelf-stable bar is an attractive option. Not only does it taste good, it’s handier than a pot of Greek yoghurt or a pre-cooked chicken breast. The difference, though? So many of these bars are ultra-processed.
“They’re classed as ultra-processed because of the industrial ingredients and processing techniques used to make it taste, look, and last like a real food product,” nutritionist and functional medicine practitioner Farzanah Nasser – whose whole food recipes are a mainstay in my house, mostly for the clever way they pack fibre and a range of colours into everyday meals – tells me. “The term comes from the Nova food classification system, which defines ultra-processed foods (UPFs) as products made mostly from substances extracted from foods or synthesised in labs, rather than from real, recognisable ingredients.”
I’m aware protein bars can be, in some instances, a quick, affordable hit of nutrition (though I use the term loosely), and can be a lifesaver for people who are chronically on the go, without access to fresh foods. I don’t like to demonise food and genuinely do believe that there is room for everything in a healthy, balanced diet.
What I can’t countenance is the confusion and misinformation over whether protein bars – and other food-adjacent items – are actually good for us. None of which is helped by marketing slogans.
“Research is starting to show that diets high in ultra-processed foods can affect reproductive and metabolic hormones, while additives and emulsifiers may disrupt the gut microbiome,” Alderson explains, when I ask her what the risks to our overall health are. “Sweeteners and refined starches can also drive insulin spikes, which influence ovulation and mood, with insulin resistance being one of the leading drivers to endocrine disorders like PCOS.”
One bar, she emphasises, is not going to derail your hormones, but eating them regularly won’t do you any good either. And I think Wicks has done something worthwhile in disrupting a bloated industry, where it’s all too easy to capitalise on and manipulate people’s desire to treat their bodies with respect.
