There is a new breed of celebrity. As the harms of alcohol, smoking and illicit substances pushes the wide-eyed 90s’ cohort into the fringes of stardom and the power of vegetables becomes universally known, a group of PR savvy, forward thinking wellness gurus have cemented themselves in the public’s conciousness.

Best known on our shores is Deliciously Ella (née Ella Woodward), a woman with all the ephemeral charm of Nigella, but without the clotted cream finish. Leading the charge on the other side of the pond is Amanda Chantel Bacon, a white cotton vision who has stripped all non-naturals from her heavily scented, sparsely filled LA lifestyle-come-healthfood shop.

These two have helped set a growing trend which uses food to elevate the human body to that of a temple, to be nurtured, kindly encouraged and even, most controversially, healed. Now Sunningdale is getting in on the action.

“Six or seven years ago I got a phone called from a lady saying her husband had been diagnosed with stage three bowel cancer,” explains Mark Kimchi as he sips on a glass cup of healthy smelling herbal tea.

“He was lined up to do the chemo and radio and everything like that. But she just knew it was going to be terrible for him. We had a consultation. I set them up a programme for how to deal with this with food. You would be very surprised what is possible.”

The couple seeking Mark’s help in his profession as a researcher of food science in relation to illness was John and Rafia Willmott. The Bedfordshire based family, like Ella and Bacon, have a knack for self promotion. In 2011 The Independent featured them as ‘Britain’s happiest family’ after the property developing dad took his three children and wife on a year-long, round the world voyage of self discovery.

When they met Mark their mutually progressive approach to life ensured the connection was instantaneous, a bond that became unbreakable when John got the all clear after following a strict programme of nutrition.

Now a full time subscriber of the wellness gospel and with the requisite financial backing, Rafia joined Mark to found Eliane in Hungerford. Three years later and the restaurant and its ethos of health-giving food made from hand selected ingredients has been transferred to Sunningdale.

To look at it is not too different from any other bougie coffee shop come ladies-that-lunch destination, its Farrow and Ball frontage, airy interior and tastefully arranged displayed dishes fodder for the upmarket residents of central Berkshire. Indeed Rafia’s explanation of the business’ aim - “to provide choices that enable anyone to be able to learn about better ingredients, better health and a better lifestyle, in the most enjoyable way possible” - would suggest there is little different about Elaine. That is simply not true. Its philosophy is hardcore.

“The stuff that we are told about illness is not quite so accurate,” Mark picks up.

“The stuff we are told is stuff that has been put out there on purpose by the pharmaceutical industry. We are led to believe cancer just happens, it is random, and we need drugs to solve it. Cancer can only form naturally inside the body. You just start feeding the body all the foods cancer hates, and start feeding the body the food the immune system love. Suddenly the cancer cells start to die.”

While the many caveats Mark offers this argument does give him an air of reasonableness, what is inescapable is that Elaine is built on the belief that food can cure cancer, fresh, organic ingredients are wood in the immune system’s furnace and platinum suspended in water is a thing. I can not refute any of these claims - for I am, much like Rafia and Mark, not a doctor - but after my enquiry about whether coffee is okay to drink was met with a hearty ripple of laughter, I want to.

Maybe even the natural cynic in me would have stopped licking its wounds however, had Rafia not admitted that they were not bothered about Elaine’s profit margins, the promised review had not turned into an hour and a half lecture about the ills of the non-natural and had the food, when it did come, not tasted oddly of lemons.

Eliane is open 8.30am to 10.30pm Monday to Friday, 9am to 10.30pm Saturday and 10am to 10pm Sunday.