pumpkinstrokemarrow

Then I moved onto to the raisins, something which I can consume far more of than the BH is comfortable with. So I can do maybe 4 or 5 ounces by way of a snack during the averts in Poirot, while she would find this well OTT. Packet of Quavers no problem, but raisins no. Well I ask you. Waitrose sell raisins which have been reared on the slopes of hills somewhere in South Africa. Struck me as a bit dear but they did the business. Sweet without being either dry or sticky - a tricky trick with a commodity which is just a fancy way of delivering a sugar fix.

So far so good. But then I moved onto the bread. Thinking maybe that here there was an in-store bakery which knew something about bread. Bought something called a large white bloomer - the sort of thing that I buy all the time from Cheam when the legs are not in a state - but which from this establishment was a bit firm and very rubbery. Sell by date the next day ( a bad sign in itself. What decent bread is fit for sale (at the very least) 26 hours after manufacture?) and which admitted to having been made for Waitrose at an undisclosed factory in the south of England. Not too good at all. But luckily I had taken the precaution of visiting the deli. counter and bought some Austrian kabanos, in preference to the rather thinner and drier looking Polish ones that were also available. And they were very good. Made up entirely for the poor, crumbly texture of the white bread from the bloomer with which I was eating them. I am told that the poor, crumbly texture is all to do with being in too much of a hurry. Decent white bread takes a bit of time and TLC. You can get away with murder if you are selling flavoured stuff. Made with exotic organic pulses from somewhere in south eastern Europe with a bit of chopped olive thrown in. But that is not white bread as I know it.

Which lead me back to a long standing puzzle. In a world where billions of pounds are spent on celebrity chefs and glossy cookbooks, how is it that we put up with such junk in the bread department? We will salivate all evening over some ponce in a big white hat doing something original with some obscure shell fish (maybe from the foot of some outfall near you?), but we do not bother to insist on decent basics?

PS: Mr Kazin (vide supra) was also very into eating as a child. It seems that for families of his generation, serious eating was very important. Whack the calories down. I don't suppose they cared or knew about organics, salt or additives. So a good feast on the Lord's day was a very important part of the weekly round. Presumably something that could not be relied on back home.