Warning: If you're a bit delicate of stomach this morning, or if you're reading this at table - please stop now, as you might be disturbed by the contents.
Lunch at my place of work is a bit of a big affair. At 1p.m. - or as close to that time as possible - all four of us employees gather round the table and sit and eat for roughly an hour. Phones are left unanswered, as we chat/gossip/read/or chat on our mobiles to the outside world.
The content of our lunchboxes varies. One Italian colleague brings her own, and - like a true Italian - has to explain how it was cooked, what ingredients she used, etc. Another, who is quite Spartan in her diet, always eats the same food - which probably explains her deathly pallor. There was a time when I used to wake up earlier than I do now and actually prepare myself some food to take with me, but that's all a distant memory now. Nowadays, I just stop at the supermarket chain known mainly for supplying Britain with underwear which according to Jeremy Paxman is mediocre, and spend a small fortune on stuff which goes from fridge to table via the microwave in a matter of minutes.
One day last week - I'm pretty sure it was Friday - I was late for work, and in my panic (Note: should one really still panic when one is going to be about 10minutes late for work?) forgot to stop at the supermarket to get my lunch. Come 1p.m., as everyone gathered to eat, I decided that I couldn't be bothered to walk all the way up to the Underwear Place and just went across the road to the very expensive Kings Road grocer and get something from there instead.
Now I'm not really a fan of the expensive Kings Road grocer, since I find it to be a bit of a rip off, but seeing as this was going to be a one-off - quite how much of one I didn't know myself at that point - I thought, "oh what the heck", and crossed the road.
If you want to know just how poncey the expensive Kings Road grocer is all I need to tell you is this: the staff are all French. Walking in there is a bit like walking into some fancy designer boutique. You are sized up, analysed and dismissed in just one glance. Even buying a baguette becomes a bit of a chore!
In fact it was a baguette and some ham that I went in intending to buy, thinking to just have a quick sandwich and get on with it, since things at work are a bit manic at the moment. At the counter however, I looked at a dish of tasty-looking mushroom risotto, which, according to Monsieur behind the counter tasted even better than it looked. "It's just out of the kitchen," he said (expensive Kings Road grocer is connected to an expensive Kings Road restaurant). Sold to the loser who can't make up his mind!
Back in the office, I sat and showed off my mushroom risotto to the others, moaning about the price. "But it's good," I said, as I digested my first - and as it turned out - only mouthful of the stuff. For as I raised the fork to my mouth for the second time I realised that the one grain of rice that was slightly more curved and a bit thicker than the others was not in fact what I thought it was but .... a maggot! One that had died an intense microwaved death but was still a maggot.
You can imagine the screams of disgust emanating from three women as I explained why I had suddenly stopped eating and turned a slight shade of green. "Sue them," said the pale one. "Call health and safety and shut them down," said the Italian. "Photograph the maggot," said the pregnant one, you never know!
And so it was that I returned to the expensive Kings Road grocer with my mushroom risotto in hand, to show Monsieur behind the counter that what had just come out of the kitchen had better go straight back to it with a note to the chef, and that I wanted my money back, thank you very much. He, of course, was most apologetic and mortified and tout ça - which, of course, I was having none of.
So now I have informed everyone I know in the area who I know to not go anywhere near the expensive Kings Road grocer, unless of course, they have a penchant for slimy curly things. As for me - I've learnt my lesson: Never be late for work again!
Lunch at my place of work is a bit of a big affair. At 1p.m. - or as close to that time as possible - all four of us employees gather round the table and sit and eat for roughly an hour. Phones are left unanswered, as we chat/gossip/read/or chat on our mobiles to the outside world.
The content of our lunchboxes varies. One Italian colleague brings her own, and - like a true Italian - has to explain how it was cooked, what ingredients she used, etc. Another, who is quite Spartan in her diet, always eats the same food - which probably explains her deathly pallor. There was a time when I used to wake up earlier than I do now and actually prepare myself some food to take with me, but that's all a distant memory now. Nowadays, I just stop at the supermarket chain known mainly for supplying Britain with underwear which according to Jeremy Paxman is mediocre, and spend a small fortune on stuff which goes from fridge to table via the microwave in a matter of minutes.
One day last week - I'm pretty sure it was Friday - I was late for work, and in my panic (Note: should one really still panic when one is going to be about 10minutes late for work?) forgot to stop at the supermarket to get my lunch. Come 1p.m., as everyone gathered to eat, I decided that I couldn't be bothered to walk all the way up to the Underwear Place and just went across the road to the very expensive Kings Road grocer and get something from there instead.
Now I'm not really a fan of the expensive Kings Road grocer, since I find it to be a bit of a rip off, but seeing as this was going to be a one-off - quite how much of one I didn't know myself at that point - I thought, "oh what the heck", and crossed the road.
If you want to know just how poncey the expensive Kings Road grocer is all I need to tell you is this: the staff are all French. Walking in there is a bit like walking into some fancy designer boutique. You are sized up, analysed and dismissed in just one glance. Even buying a baguette becomes a bit of a chore!
In fact it was a baguette and some ham that I went in intending to buy, thinking to just have a quick sandwich and get on with it, since things at work are a bit manic at the moment. At the counter however, I looked at a dish of tasty-looking mushroom risotto, which, according to Monsieur behind the counter tasted even better than it looked. "It's just out of the kitchen," he said (expensive Kings Road grocer is connected to an expensive Kings Road restaurant). Sold to the loser who can't make up his mind!
Back in the office, I sat and showed off my mushroom risotto to the others, moaning about the price. "But it's good," I said, as I digested my first - and as it turned out - only mouthful of the stuff. For as I raised the fork to my mouth for the second time I realised that the one grain of rice that was slightly more curved and a bit thicker than the others was not in fact what I thought it was but .... a maggot! One that had died an intense microwaved death but was still a maggot.
You can imagine the screams of disgust emanating from three women as I explained why I had suddenly stopped eating and turned a slight shade of green. "Sue them," said the pale one. "Call health and safety and shut them down," said the Italian. "Photograph the maggot," said the pregnant one, you never know!
And so it was that I returned to the expensive Kings Road grocer with my mushroom risotto in hand, to show Monsieur behind the counter that what had just come out of the kitchen had better go straight back to it with a note to the chef, and that I wanted my money back, thank you very much. He, of course, was most apologetic and mortified and tout ça - which, of course, I was having none of.
So now I have informed everyone I know in the area who I know to not go anywhere near the expensive Kings Road grocer, unless of course, they have a penchant for slimy curly things. As for me - I've learnt my lesson: Never be late for work again!