Thursday, 18 February 2016

More snacks - Blues Kitchen, Slaughtered Lamb, Lucky Chip, Montpelier

 
My general rules on eating meat have proved ineffective for limiting any damage to the environment / society in the past couple of weeks because so many of them make concessions to the fact that when told not to do something, I really really want to do it. So the way I structure my 'eat less meat' is to limit myself to vegetables only for meals that I cook for myself. Not to say that I don't cook vegetarian for more than one person, but I don't like the limitation. Ditto ordering in restaurants. However, in the past two weeks, I've been ravenously hungry and not home very much. As in, The Returned style mad red eyes sending terse emails to colleagues hungry (it almost got me in trouble yesterday) and I've convinced myself that it's not the time to deny my appetite lest I kill someone to drink their blood by accident. So here is a non-exclusive list of filthy junk food that I've eaten of late that's been legitimised by the fact that the environs have been cutesy pubs with sofas rather than sparse, pseuo-clean chicken shops.



Blues Kitchen. I was really craving fried chicken so we went for a work lunch and I felt conflicted about my thoughts re: the outrageously flirtatious waitress' outfit and then had to consider why I cared what the waitress was wearing and isn't it patronising to think that only your own brand of 'I do what I want I am a feminist' is the right one. The chicken batter was well spiced, but the chicken within was a bit dry and unremarkable. Plus, absolute BS that they imported the walls from New Orleans.

Lucky Chip at The Old Queen's Head. The first time I went to Lucky Chip what sticks out to me was that that my pal ordered his girlfriend a new burger as hers got cold and I vividly thought 'wow that is so nice there is no way me and X would be this nice to each other ever'. So it felt fitting to return and share an (average) hot dog and chips and prosecco and remember how the passage of time makes everything alright in the end.

The Slaughtered Lamb. The scotch egg I had ranks up there with the best I've had - worth the fifteen minute walk from Barbican rather than resorting to the overpriced, shithole that is The Jugged Hare that charged me £25 for two drinks which I had to endure with two letchy, lunchdrunk city wankers unashamedly talking about me from about 12 inches away. Oh, special shout out for the sweet potato fries which tasted like you could eat them whether you were having a sweet or savoury craving and they would satisfy.

The Montpelier. Being mentally stimulated after two months is great but I still want to keep my balance and headspace. Also, why do I keep craving fish to the extent that I have bought a Greggs tuna sandwich and a fish cake this week? Particularly funny since 'too close to no boundaries' housemate and pal gets weird fish cravings so it is like I have taken on her cravings as well as things which it's more understandable to pick up e.g. language. The smoked mackerel pate on toast with pickled cucumber here satisfied my need for oil and iron and sour so well and I particularly enjoyed that the cucumber was pickled which removed that kind of cacky wateriness.

1 comment:

  1. So it felt fitting to return and share an (average) hot dog and chips and prosecco and remember how the passage of time makes everything alright in the end. Lisa W. Degregorio

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