In British middle-class fantasy land Muslim immigrants read Shakespeare and respect the lifestyle choices of the gay Jewish couple next door, and the working classes give up smoking, drink moderately and eat only what Jamie Oliver tells them to. The white-collared of this land have always hoped that the plebs could somehow be more like them, and never more so than now when they are increasingly given to considering the long-term healthcare tax hit implicit in all those annoying habits of the less affluent.
Oddly enough, in Dickens's time the food of the poor was oysters; some hardly ate anything else. And further back still in the Middle Ages, it was the upper, equestrian classes that had the unhealthiest of available diets. Things might change again, but my bet is that it won't be thanks to the Nanny state.