Tuesday, November 27, 2007

Why must you tell me all your secrets when it's hard enough to love you knowing nothing?

This is one of Lloyd Cole's best lines ever, and I don't say that lightly. It comes into my mind from time to time. Once was when I was on holiday in the Czech Republic with my Significant Ex, visiting Mr B and his then girlfriend R (?), who was from Texas I think. She was cool but a bit scary when drunk.

We had a great holiday, but by day five or so I was feeling distinctly malnourished: if you didn't eat meat in the Czech Republic of 1994, you didn't have a whole lot of options. Mr B fed me fried egg on rye bread with brown sauce for breakfast every morning, which covers off most of the major food groups, but after that it was fried cheese for lunch and fried cheese for tea. I was getting to the point where I would have killed for a lettuce.

So we found ourselves in an American-style Sports Bar in Prague, where you had to watch sport, obviously, but they did have a menu which included vegetables. We ordered, but what happened afterwards was chaotic at best. Basically, the service was dreadful, and the American guy serving us explained at great length why this was -- they were short-staffed, the menu had just changed, something hadn't been delivered on time etc etc. We all nodded sympathetically except R, who rolled her eyes and said 'I don't give a shit what kind of day you're having, please just bring us our food when it's ready'. And then proceeded to explain to us how if this happened in the US we'd be getting a free meal by now.

I would never have said that, but she did have a point. And I find myself feeling much the same way about Abel & Cole, from whom we currently get our organic veg box. To be fair, I think they provide very good quality vegetables, always deliver on time, have an excellent online ordering service which allows you to tell them that you don't like bananas and don't want any alfalfa sprouts this week thank you, and have near single-handedly restored my faith in (at least) a) carrots b) tomatoes and c) cucumber.

So far so good, but they will insist on bloody writing to me all the time. I try and put the weekly newsletter straight in the recycling but from time to time I can't help reading it. It's getting very, very close to being enough to make me subscribe to one of those local schemes where you might get nothing but a carrier bag full of mud with two beetroot and a parsnip embedded in it every week from now 'till March but at least you won't have to feel you've been subscribed without your consent to a special middle class smug club. In this club we're all very excited about the new muesli range, and happy to learn about the provenance of the Jerusalem artichoke in general (the explorer Samuel de Champlain discovered them in the Americas in 1605, fact fans) and this week's in particular ("Jeremy's family has been farming in Hertfordshire for six generations").

At 'special' times of year, they email me as well. Check out this little gem (all exclamation marks original!)

It's not always easy encouraging your little bundles of joy to eat a varied, healthy diet, so let us help! As the festive season approaches, you could have a houseful of little ones to feed, even if they're not your own! We've a few tried and tested tricks up our sleeves to make mealtimes easier and tastier for everyone!

Just. Cock. Off. I like my farmers taciturn. In fact I like most everyone taciturn. Enough platitudes already.


Labels: ,


Anonymous Charlie said...

They should know your only bundles of joy are new red socks.

12:46 pm  

Post a Comment

<< Home