The rise of the posh sandwich

As someone who grew up on a diet of Mighty White glued together with Shipphams fishpaste, I can’t quite get my head around fancy sandwiches.  It was fine when shop-bought sandwiches had two or three things in them – ham and salad, cheese and pickle, prawn and mayonnaise - but then adjectives took over the world, and suddenly ham was beech smoked or exotically crumbed or hand carved from the succulent leg of the happiest pig in Wiltshire.

But it didn’t stop there. Oh no. Now sandwiches have gone all gastro, with ingredients like refried beans and beetroot and watercress and other stuff that has no business being in a sandwich. For evidence, I refer you to this article in The Guardian, entitled “the ten best sandwich recipes”. Here’s the ingredients for the first one:

80g montgomery's cheddar, grated
10g comté cheese, grated
10g ogleshield cheese, grated
2 slices of Poilâne sourdough bread
2 tsp mixed chopped white and red onions, leek and crushed garlic

I’m concerned it might be a bit bland. Maybe a touch more ogleshield, and some fishpaste? 

Flickr: Kake Pugh

TV Suppers: The Eurovision Song Contest

One of the wonderful things about Eurovision (and there are many, I have a list), is that for one glorious week it brings all of Europe together, in all its glittery, bonkers diversity.  It’s a legitimate opportunity to laugh at foreigners, celebrate all things regional/camp/kitsch, and marvel at how hot Scandinavians are.

But let’s not forget someone else for whom Eurovision offers a not-to-be-missed opportunity – the Well-Travelled MC. He or she has not only heard of Malmo, they’ve also been there, drunk their bodyweight in Aquavit and missed the last train to Stockholm. 

So when you’re watching the Eurovision finals tonight (and you will, you know you will), keep an ear out for the MC in the room. He or she can be identified by the sharing of their extensive European knowledge, in the form of gap year anecdotes, geographical trivia and random historical facts (particularly relating to former Yugoslav nations).  A few examples are below:

• “Did I tell you about the time I went skiing in Bulgaria? So much cheaper than the Alps”
• “Extraordinary to think that technically Yugoslavia no longer exists”
• “I stayed in Hungary when I went InterRailing. You’ve never really had a goulash until you’ve been to Budapest”
• “Did you know that Azerbaijan is not actually in Europe, just in the European Broadcasting Union?” 
• “Terrible how things are in Greece. It was all fine when we were in Kefalonia.”

Just for info, the correct response to all of these is “Really? How fascinating”, before turning up the volume on Greece’s answer to Madness.

The awfulness of this year’s Apprentice; what price the Badger in 2013?

“I like to keep my class and my dignity,” sulked The Apprentice’s Sophie Lau as she was fired from the programme earlier this week. But without wishing to be mean – Sophie was one of the more dignified contestants – one has to say that she might have chosen the wrong show for that.

This year’s Apprentice features among its female team the most preening and distastefully-dressed group of business Barbies ever to “grace” the show; the flesh, sky-high-heels and predictable cattiness is reminiscent of the days when producers were trying to keep Big Brother afloat with glamour models. Luisa might have attracted most of the bad press but it’s the sight of the overly made-up mass pouting in presentations that is really depressing.

This was once the reality show that the middle classes could enjoy because it had some intellectual content, and the BBC is making a huge mistake if this direction is to be permanent. The producers seem to have forgotten the best-loved female contestant of all time was a flat-shoed, un-made-up down to earth lass from Birmingham. Bring back the Badger, we say.

Chattering class: 10 pieces of chat for the price of 1

Continental meat sales are soaring

We just can’t get enough chorizo

While cider sales plummet

We blame the mildly annoying ice-in-the-pint-glass malarky

Could it be time for the shandy’s glorious revival?

Yes, @DaniBevins, it really could be

M&S new fashion range seems to be going down well

Phew, keen to get things back to normal ASAP

Great Gatsby themed everything

Enough art deco already

Pound shops thriving in MC areas

There’s still kudos in being a bargain hunter

Morrisons and Ocado going into business together

Ooh, Waitrose, watch out

Larders

We are so feeling the love

Citizens Advice urging ban on cold calling

And not before time!

WHSMith

Ridiculously horrible but basically the heart of today’s sad high street

Class phwoar: Kleenex Collection Cubes

I feel a little bit silly for getting so excited by some boxes of tissues, but seriously, these limited edition Kleenex are the loveliest, most exciting tissues available to humanity right now, and they need to be brought to the attention of team MC. The tissues themselves are nothing for your nose to get inordinately excited about. It’s the boxes – sorry, “cubes” is what they’re calling them now. There are three main things that push these into Class Phwoar territory:

• They come in a variety of limited edition designs. Who doesn’t love a limited edition version of a really boring item? Feels like you’re really living for now, doesn’t it?
• The designs are generally seasonal and/or on-trend. It’s always satisfying to live by the seasons, and why the heck should that stop at your veg box?
• The designs are actually really nice and interesting – and genuinely add something to the home especially if you get a few and stack them up artfully somewhere. There’s a Mondrian one going at the moment. Catch it before they refresh the designs for summer.

But there’s a hidden extra level of phwoar on offer here. If you order them online with your grocery shopping, which I’ve been doing, you don’t know which design you’re going to get – it’s not necessarily the one shown on the website at the time you order. It’s like a lucky dip. Too exciting!