Filthy food

WE HAVE A SINCERE love of food. Emilie is all about biscuits and noodles. Annabel’s heart lies with chilli and cheese. We eat for bulk, flavour, health, thrills, survival and adventure. We snack out of boredom, celebration, misery, joy and curiosity. We gnaw at the olive in a martini. We nibble on the slightly faded carrot garnish that comes with the spring rolls. We stock our fridges with bits and pieces designed to fill appetite gaps of all shapes and sizes. We live in whirligig of deliciousness. Except for those times when it goes a bit wonky; when we eat things without knowing why. Things we don’t like. Things we would normally avoid. When a space, time, emotional and circumstantial continuum leads us to dive into mistakes such as:

LEFTOVER CHINESE

Last night was a sofa orgy of MSG. We felt dirty, but in such a good way. We know in our hearts that the chilli beef is so fatty that it has gone solid in the fridge, that the noodles have become one mass of matter (studded with those weird little cubes of garlic), and that the prawn crackers have aged overnight to acquire that curious fabric-y texture, so the leftovers will give us a far less pleasurable feeling of filth... But, nonetheless, we’re going in.

BOMBAY MIX

Why does this taste stale the moment it comes out of the packet? Perhaps because it was made in the ’70s and no one bought it because it’s so heinous. But if we have itchy nibble-fingers and a few too many wines before dinner then we munch on it joylessly, until our hands and teeth are coated in chickpea flour and our souls are coated in shame.

PETROL-STATION PASTIES

Eaten when we’re so, so hungry and cold, and both geographically and emotionally in the nowhere place. The lardy pastry is bad enough but the innards... Oh dear Lord, the gluey innards. It’s enough to put you off peas. PEAS.

JELLIED CHICKEN

That thing where you go all cavewoman and assault a refrigerated chicken carcass without even bothering to take the plate out of the fridge. And – what fresh hell is this? – you find the inside of your mouth, and your hands, arms and face all covered with chicken jelly, which is basically dog food. This is probably the worst textural experience of your life. But you savage away at it and then you need a shower.

FRUIT THAT’S BEEN CHOPPED WITH AN ONIONY KNIFE

What’s that taste sensation? It’s not good. But we can’t waste these strawberries and this mango and surely a bit of onion juice on a peach is OK. Maybe if you add yogurt it will make everything better. (Reader, it did not make everything better.)

COLD TEA

You are just furious with yourself for never remembering to drink your tea in a timely fashion. And so you vow – as a kind of pointless penance – that you will sit there, madam, until that tea is drunk. No matter that there is a terrible milky film on top and the mug looks like the Turin Shroud.

SOFT APPLES

We know before we even take the first bite and yet we proceed. That cottonwoolly texture that makes our teeth itch and our ears ache. The tiny grains of juiceless substance. But to take one bite and then walk away feels sinful and so we plough on, feeling sadder and sadder.

STILTON

This may be controversial but it’s visibly off. It wears its mouldy disgustingness like a badge of honour. It actively attacks our tastebuds with its festering tang. And yet, please pass the Carr’s… Or we could make it worse and have it with a slice of soft apple. themidult.com

Last night was a sofa org y of MSG. We felt dirty, but in such a good way