H - Health Food
I suppose I only have myself to blame. I chose to live in Camden so my local grocery is a healthfood shop. It opens later than everyone else so I occasionally find myself in there looking for a pint of milk (Organic, additive free, four times as expensive as regular).
Last week I found a packet of ‘Ancient Grains’ breakfast cereal made with ‘Quinoa, spelt and Kamut®’. Which Neolithic tribe registered Kamut as a trademark, one has to ask?
The week before it was ‘Nomato Soup’, entirely organic and guaranteed free from any member of the nightshade family. I watch that shelf carefully now, waiting for appless pie or dehydrated water.
This morningI saw a worried North London Mother rifling distractedly through the gluten-free children’s snacks while her three year old was diligently licking each bread roll in the nearby basket. Poor little bastard, he looked hollow-eyed and desperate like a hothoused Oliver Twist – Please, Sir. Could I have a big doughy jam sandwich?
Parents like that should swap kids for a week with someone on a sink estate in Newcastle. Little Wayne would get his first bit of roughage and Tarquin could be rescued from the brink of starvation with a bag of chips and Vimto through a teat.
It’s become so entertaining that I’ve actually stopped going to the cinema and instead return home from each visit for an hour of incredulous gaping wonder.
They also have the nicest staff anywhere. Happy, blissed out yoga-people with piercings, tattoos and seraphic smiles…
Which usually makes me want to rush out and eat meat.