Consider Pimm’s!

Only the most sour-faced leftie would refuse a Pimm’s: it evokes the other Eden, demi-paradise version of England: the languid days on level croquet lawns; the plock of leather on willow; splashing, passing oarsmen; the Glastonbury chumminess of Henman Hill. I first tried it as an undergraduate at Oxford (I can feel the comment love… Continue reading Consider Pimm’s!

Consider Processed Cheese!

It was all horrible. Laughing Cow smells alarmingly of nothing. On the tongue, it’s clammy and cold, chilled snot whiffing of silage. Dairylea is epically disgusting: baby-sick panna cotta. Cheestrings – technically not processed, but a heated, elongated cousin – sent me their “shots” to try: lentil-sized lumps that looked like Brian May’s dandruff. Oliver… Continue reading Consider Processed Cheese!