Fridge raiders: appalling snacks we suddenly lust for after a drunken night out

It’s not big or clever, but we’ve all done it: stumbling into the kitchen late at night after one too many Riojas at the office Christmas party, desperate for something to soak up the booze, but not quite possessing the wherewithal to concoct a proper supper. Our usual levels of discernment and good taste go out the window. Often, of course, we’ll only realise what we’ve done when we discover the empty packets and remnants the next morning. And sometimes we see evidence of an attempt to MC up an appalling snack. Which just makes it more depressing.

Here are some of the worst offenders:

• Babybel or Dairylea: You know somewhere in the back of your mind that the nice goat’s cheese is earmarked for the Christmas Day starter. So you grab a Babybel or Dairylea, usually reserved only for your children’s lunch box.
• Things directly from jars: Expensive little nuggets that you’d never ordinarily just guzzle down in one go, but when drunk it seems perfectly reasonable to stand there with the fridge door open eating straight from the jars. Chorizo, olives, dolmades, those little spicy peppers stuffed with soft cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, marinated artichoke hearts. Apparently anything goes.
• Mini Pizzas: You know they’re at the back of the freezer somewhere, saved for those evenings when you can’t be bothered to make the kids a ‘proper dinner’. The mini pizza is perfect for a drunken snack. Often eaten post crisps, Babybel and chorizo – you needed something to tide you over while you waited of course.  
• Inappropriate things on toast: There is something slightly desperate about pesto on toast, but even worse is hummus on toast. Reserved for the truly tiddly. 
• Crisps: An immediate answer to your increasing hunger. Often consumed more than one bag at a time and as crisps are usually kept in the house for kids, you find yourself hoovering down Monster Munch, Pom Bears and Wotsits. 
• Fish finger sandwiches: Made with fish fingers pilfered from the kids’ drawer of the freezer. Your drunk self decided that a smear of tartare sauce would make it more respectable.

Comments

[Jeff Pickthall]

One Sunday morning I found evidence that I'd microwaved oven chips.