The school that pioneered healthy eating

Jamie Oliver, eat your heart out. Clifton College has already tackled the nutrition issue

Clifton believes it is one of the first independent schools to undertake such a move, doing so long before Jamie Oliver began his mission to reform school dinners in the state sector. Partly as a result of that mission, the Education Secretary, Ruth Kelly, announced last week that the "scandal" of junk food has to end. At Clifton, it already has.

It's 12.30pm on a sunny September day and I'm in the office of Nick Potts, Clifton's catering manager. In the nearby dining hall, the lunchtime rush has begun. In the next hour, 1,600 meals will be served. In total, 22,000 meals are served per week - that's breakfasts, lunches and dinners for day pupils and boarders ranging in age from three to 18.

Clifton set up its own catering in January, ending its prior relationship with a private contractor. The reason was that "parental satisfaction surveys mentioned the quality of the food more than we would like," admits Phillip Hallworth, the director of admissions.

Potts has nine kitchen staff, four with hotel or restaurant experience. His main aim was to bring in more fresh food and the school now buys 90 per cent of its meat and vegetables fresh from local sources.

Clifton's chefs also cater for weddings (seven so far this year) and corporate functions. The profits helped to buy new dining tables and chairs. Clifton works with three other independent schools in a loose consortium that yields significant purchasing power, and they are no longer tied to designated suppliers.

We leave Potts's room and head to the upper school's grand dining room. At once, I'm in a hungry panic. There is a general queue for hot meals, but this veers off to the left where there's a soup and salad selection. I decide soup and salad is a good test of freshness and taste.

I'm now at the fast track bar, for those in a hurry who want to make their own sandwiches. I take a small bowl of lentil soup and a granary roll. I'm then offered tuna, cheese and cold meats. I attempt to take all three, to be told that I need to choose one. While I get a big helping of tuna, the salad selection isn't inspiring: one tray of lettuce, one of tomatoes, one of cucumber. The nearby salad bar looks far more appealing, as does the pasta and potato bar.

Potts says the secret of introducing healthier dinners is to stick with foods the children recognise, but to make them more nutritious. For example, they have introduced strips of fresh chicken as a replacement for chicken nuggets. But they still use a limited amount of comfort foods such as fish fingers, and Potts says there would be a riot if the chocolate sponge with chocolate sauce were to disappear.

Clifton now has a school food committee, where pupils can voice their opinions on the menu changes and make their own suggestions. They certainly do. One of the first hot topics was chips - while the girls liked the new menus, the boys wanted more fries. Nowadays, says Potts, chips are only available on Friday.

But it's salt that has become the biggest issue at Clifton. There is a little confusion over the rules, and a great deal of emotion. The school's website says a minimum of salt is added in the cooking, and salt has now been removed from the tables. Luckily, the lentil soup is tasty enough; I wouldn't even consider adding salt.

Two 17-year-old students have been put on the table with me, Emma Clutton-Brock and Tom Ingraham. Both are fans of the new menu, and it's no surprise; Ingraham is a vegetarian, and in the past his choice was severely limited. Today he's eating vegetable chow mien, couscous and olives from the salad bar. I eat my tomato and look on enviously. "I can see some boys with salad on their plates," Hallworth says. "Good!" beams Potts.

Both Ingraham and Clutton-Brock are on the school's food committee. They have weathered arguments over tomatoes at breakfast - the girls want them, the boys don't. But the salt issue has yet to be resolved. "I'm old enough to fight for my country, so I'm old enough to decide if I can have salt," says Ingraham. He wants it back on the tables, but says health warnings could be put on posters around the dining room. In particular, he wants salt to put on his chips. Potts responds that the chips are salted in the kitchen. "But how much?" Ingraham asks.

Potts is keen to move on to other topics, such as the fact that more money is spent on ingredients. His budget is almost £1m a year, and he insists that each meal still costs about £1 to make. Parents' pockets, says Hallworth, are not affected by the new menus as fees are the same.

The school has received a glowing report from the consultant dietician Lorraine Norris, who was commissioned to carry out a review of the new menus. Norris is the lead dietician for South Gloucestershire Primary Care Trust, where she does a lot of preventative work on diabetes and obesity. This is the first time in 18 years that a school has asked for her help.

Potts says the rugby players are complaining that they lose salt while playing and want it back on the table. Norris assures him that sweating in an English climate won't mean losing much salt. She points out that new nutritional guidelines from the Caroline Walker Trust and the National Heart Forum say that salt, which contributes to high blood pressure and heart disease, should not be on the school table.

While Ingraham is still passionately arguing his case for more salt, I finally get round to my pudding. As I pick up my bowl, I realise there's something written on the blue school tray underneath: "The spirit nourishes within."

Sample menus

Monday
Turkey and herb stroganoff
Traditional lamb lasagne
Mushroom risotto
Steamed herb rice, mini potatoes, mixed vegetables
Strawberry and apple crumble and custard

Tuesday
Chicken chop suey
Mixed bean and celery Provençal
Gammon and pineapple
Tomato rice, noisette potatoes, fresh cauliflower
Chocolate sponge and chocolate sauce

Wednesday
Beef bourguignon
Toad in the hole
Vegetable chow mein
Mashed potatoes
baked beans
Dutch applecake and custard