I THINK it was John Wayne who told his adversaries to “eat dirt”, but it seems that some local food outlets could be allowing customers to do the same.

A recent report in this paper about the failure of some establishments to ensure adequate hygiene standards made shocking reading, but it is something I look at from a different perspective, mainly because I am middle-aged.

I am not so old that I have to worry too much about being vulnerable to specific threats to my health, but I am old enough to realise that the chances of being struck down with a food hygiene-related problem are, for me, quite slim.

This is because — not putting too fine a point on it — I have come to the conclusion that I have a cast-iron stomach.

I know there need to be certain minimum public hygiene requirements, but I do think that healthy people, especially when they are middle-aged, spend too much time worrying about dirt when a little bit of it surely does more good than harm.

Some people have medical conditions that seriously affect their stomachs, and others, such as the elderly, pregnant women, new-born babies and people with serious and/or chronic illnesses, have to be far more careful than me.

If my daughter, who is Type 1 diabetic, came down with food poisoning, for instance, it would not be a trivial matter.

My late father was plagued with ulcer problems the whole of his life, but the genes that caused that were, fortunately, not passed down to my generation.

So it’s one thing I don’t have to lose any sleep over.

Not only have I never been a victim of ulcers, but neither have I ever had food poisoning, I rarely get attacked by anything that finds a battleground in my bowels, and I have only dim memories of getting even mild indigestion. Far from worrying about food and my reaction to it, it makes me feel lucky and grateful.

Even better: It is one of those rare examples of my age being an advantage.

During our lifetimes we probably consume about a wheelbarrow-load of dirt, so I have already had the benefit of a few shovelfuls, and it is probably because of this that my body’s defences feel like they have built up, over the years, like the walls of a fortress.

It probably got its biggest boost when I was in short trousers and didn’t worry too much about washing my hands to eat sweets during breaks in muddy football matches.

I wouldn’t actually recommend that parents provide a small pile of dirt on their children’s plates at mealtimes, but exposing them to bacteria when they are old enough and fit enough to use it to develop effective resistance is hardly a bad thing.

I should also add that when I Googled ‘iron stomach’, I found one online scientific journal pointing out that not much is known about why some people are more fragile than others, but some research suggests coffee — which I never drink — makes some people more susceptible to tummies of the dicky variety.

So although I don’t want to be a scaremonger about a particular kind of food or drink, perhaps how clean the things are that we put in our mouths may not be as relevant as what they are.

I am not saying I have any evidence to back up my theories.

But I do think that, as we get older, we should be less bothered by official reports and ratings and listen to our own bodies.

They are not called gut feelings for nothing.