When I reach for coke, people stare. Capital "C" Coke, that is. This is because I drink regular Coke - not Diet Coke, not Coke Zero, but classic, full-of-real-sugar Coca-Cola. So classic that it evokes images of glass bottles, red diner stools and families of smiling polar bears.

People comment on my drink of choice all the time - girls and boys. Sometimes it's incredulous: "You drink regular Coke? You're the only person I know who does that." Other times it appears that I'm a maverick: "Regular Coke - you go girl." Who would've thought that drinking something out of a can that doesn't contain beer would make me a badass? Regardless of the reaction, the fact that there is a reaction says enough. Apparently, we've come to the point that choosing the real over the fake seems. strange.

Strange, at least, when choosing the real over the fake really means opting for additional calories. But that's the thing: regular Coke isn't extra calories. Diet Coke is fewer than normal calories. Yet our mentalities have shifted so that the fake is the standard and the real is the indulgent or the excessive. As much as it is a classic inversion - the pupil has surpassed the teacher - it seems a situation that belongs more in The Karate Kid and less in our food.

And that's with full knowledge that aspartame kills mice. Despite the name, Sweet & Low isn't so sweet.

I think it's time we overhaul this mindset - this preference for the fake. I refuse to feel guilty about reaching for real ingredients. It's all about moderation.

The first step? Bring back the brunch (see page 6), because most breakfast foods glory in being full of unadulterated, and yes, calorie-heavy, ingredients.

I will admit, however, that there are times when choosing the fake is better than sticking with the original. Take tans, or fur. With either, a lot less harm is done if you opt for the fabricated version. And as someone with food allergies, I do appreciate the opportunities that synthetic versions of staples like milk give me.

Without you, Lactaid, my morning cereal would be a much drier place.

Here's to you,