Tag Archives: eating

Sandwiches, or something.

What’s the greatest sandwich you’ve ever had? Is it ham? Beef? Cheese? A combination of other things all put together into one pile of nonsense? It could be, I don’t know. Maybe your favourite sandwich involves hammers and beans. That would make you a bit squiffy, truth be told, but at least if you admitted to it there wouldn’t be much weirder you could go.

But maybe your favourite idea of a sandwich is one with pastrami, mustard, cheese and something else you love. Maybe it’s a case of the best things that could possibly go in a sandwich combined with the best things you never thought could go in a sandwich (but could). Maybe it’s just that damn good.

Basically I want you to picture, or taste that ‘wich. I want you to imagine you’re feeling its flavour all over your mindtank. Then I want you to think of bread and butter.

Bread and butter is clearly the best thing ever made, even if you have olive spread instead of butter like some loser might (hello!). It tastes of very little, it’s of no nutritional value beyond being bread and making you eat it and… well, it doesn’t do much for the street cred of “the kids”. So there’s clearly no viable point in bread and butter.

Fuck viable though, I love it.

1 Comment

Filed under Prattle

Good, honest prattle

Walking to work today I was confronted by the sight of a market stall in the middle of Bournemouth town centre. Nothing amiss there. It was selling pies, pasties and other such tasty treats – how I managed to control myself and not devour the lot, I do not know. But again – nothing amiss there. What caught my eye was the banner for the stand, which proclaimed the proprietor was selling “good, honest food”. Forgive me for being crass, but that’s just fucking nonsense isn’t it?

I can understand where the phrase is coming from, obviously. We live in a world where we are constantly fed things that are made from 99 per cent ground-up irradiated colonoscopy equipment mixed with one per cent emulsified matter. But when you have companies like Pedigree marketing dog food as “good, honest food” then you can probably see my problem with how far it’s gone. I’m assuming their ‘honesty’ doesn’t stretch to in-depth ingredients listings, stating just how many cow knees and chicken ani (plural for anus, natch*) go into each tin of tasty goodness. Plus this marketing probably doesn’t take into account the fact that it is neither “good”, nor “food”. Not that this would stop a dog, obviously, but I don’t like the thought that my (imaginary) pooch is being lied to. Damn you to Hades, Pedigree.

While I am seemingly against the notion of honest food, I would actually like to see a world where lying food existed. Imagine the potential for hilarity – you buy a punnet of clementines, and when you open them up at home it turns out to be a tin with one giant bean in it – that would be a hoot and a holler,  no doubt about it. Still, a man can dream… a man can dream.

I do think it’s a sorry affair when food has to be marketed with the caveat that “it really is food, guv” – and I don’t think it’s just the evil food companies that are at fault here, even if they do mince up the fingers of orphan babies, tightly pack said mincey-fingers up in hard, sugary coatings and sell them as “Smarties”. No, I also blame the good, honest people out there for their unending quest to ruin everything by complaining about it. Who here had a problem eating Frankenstein apples the size of your TV before we were told we had to have a problem with them? Then Prince Charles got involved, and now everything has to claim it isn’t GM. I’m sure I could come up with a witty, recession-based joke about General Motors containing no GM, but I can’t. Instead I’ll just write that thought in the blog, like I just have done.

Anyway, there was a train of thought here but it seems to have been lost. It must be all the radioactive Nik Naks I’ve been eating recently. They’re definitely good, honest food.

*I know they don’t have an anus, they have a vent. Shut up. And yes, it really is called a ‘vent’.


Filed under Prattle