Don't Spend £14 on French Fries

Don't Spend £14 on French Fries

This was going to be a standard review. The Diner in the Old Spitalfields Market is a standard American Diner offering the standard American spreads. The burger tasted like a burger, and there was nothing to distinguish it from numerous other better-than-average burgers that have found a home in Central London.

But that’s not what this is about. I’m not here to talk about another burger. I’m here to talk about the single most frustrating eating experience of my life. It’s a tale of gluttony, suspense, and a delicious banana milkshake. This is what happened when I spent £14 on french fries.

It started out like any other meal. We were seated by the waiter and began perusing the menu, which, in typical American style, was packed full of choice. Hot dogs, chicken wings, you name it they did it (usually with bacon). I ordered a banana milkshake as a treat on a hot day, and considering I hadn’t had breakfast and it was around 3 o’clock in the afternoon, anything was better than nothing.

Whilst I was slurping this down the waiter came by to ask us for our order. My friend and I both ordered different burgers, but something on the menu had caught my eye. On the right side of the menu there was a small sub-section entitled ‘Fries and Side-Packs’.

For £14 I could order a side-pack that included chilli cheese fries, hangar fries, waffle fries, and garlic butter fries. The waiter warned me:

‘That’s a lot of fries’, she said. But I didn’t mind.

‘Good,’ I said innocently. ‘I’m starving. Plus it’s between two people so it shouldn’t be that bad.’

When the food finally came I was shocked. I was expecting maybe one or two baskets of fries with the toppings mixed together in an unholy kaleidoscope of carbohydrates. What was placed in the middle for the table were four separate baskets of chips, each topped independently, and each basket enough for any one person. To add to this, the burgers themselves were sizeable, and when coupled with the milkshake…it was just too much.

I couldn’t even finish the burger, although it was never the main event. One quarter lay unceremoniously in its basket. The fries were a whole other story. We tried our best. We really did. We just about managed to eat the waffle fries and dent the garlic butter ones, but it proved too much. The worst part was that they were all delicious! I would have happily sat there and eaten all of them, had the circumstances been different. As it was I found myself leaning forward, defeated, with sweat on my brow. This was too much. God is dead, and french fries killed Him.

When I finally made it home I almost fell asleep, akin to a Sunday afternoon after a roast dinner. I was exhausted from my trial. For the next few hours I combated lethargy, and finally beat it with patient sips of tea. I was thoroughly shaken by the whole endeavour. Hours later I made dinner, but it was a bitter experience. There was no consolation, and a £14 hole in my wallet.

There are moments in life which define us as individuals, and I like to think that this was one of mine. For years I had thought myself a good eater: I have happily worked my way through an entire pork belly before, with naught but apple sauce to encourage me. I’ve eaten whole cheesecakes and assailed unassailable lasagnas. But this meal proved to me that I am not who I once was. Maybe it was the milkshake. Maybe my stomach had shrunk after not eating any meals for two days. Whatever the reason was, those fries will live on as the meal that entirely beat me.

Or I’ll just go back next week better prepared for it.

Cats Amongst the Ruins: A Week in Athens

(Originally written in December, 2016)

Saturday, 10th:

After seeing some spectacular views on our descent, we arrive in Athens. I squeal when I see the first ruined archway. I continue to squeal periodically as we walk through the centre to the restaurant. I frequently run away from the group to get a better look at various buildings, which are all conveniently bathed in a soft yellow light. Also the centre of Athens is just goddamn gorgeous in general; steps leading upwards that have bars and restaurants on every level, and cats everywhere. It feels good to achieve a life ambition by coming here, but it’ll feel even better once I’m up close and personal with it! *More squeals*

Sunday, 11th:

Went to the Athenian Agora. The light spilling into the ruins over the acropolis was blinding and very moving: there was a real sense of the numinous at that moment. The Hephiasteion was awesome. There was a bush beside it that was absolutely full of bees. Rex (the Agora dog) followed us around happily, often pre-empting the route we would take. After sweeping through the Stoa of Attalos (reconstructed and very pretty) we went to the Diplyon Gate, and saw the old graveyards. Some of the headstones were very impressive, to say the least. A marble bull was stuck on a marble tree-stump. I felt bad for him. There are orange trees everywhere. None of them look particularly appetising though. The Peruvian flute band was nice background music during lunch. Greeks aren’t great at sausage rolls. Got bits of pastry everywhere.

The metro here is balls: no barriers but you have to get your ticket stamped instead (what’s realistically going to stop you from just not buying a ticket? Greece is so mysterious). Everything has graffiti on it. Piraeus disappointing; the old city was built over to accommodate returning Greeks when they exchanged populations with turkey, and now it’s just ferries and portside industry. Piraeus museum was cool though. Nowhere near metro station. Got in trouble when my camera flashed, so I feel like a real tourist now. Feet starting to hurt and I’m falling asleep. Tea here is really weak (needed two to perk up).

Parthenon museum was great. Whole thing is on stilts to preserve the old Byzantine/Athenian town plan below (which is super cool!!). Whole bunch of stuff inside. There’s a looped video in the foyer of five rotating korai that look like they’re turning to address me. Very creepy. We lucked out when Elgin took what he did when he did: practically nothing left of any of the other metopes. Why would you leave the Poseidon/Artemis/Apollo section of the frieze though? You took everything else. Museum is very passive-aggressive by leaving a spot for the Caryatid in the British museum. Almost got lost walking back to the hotel. Cats everywhere. Saw the cave of Pan (not even the ancients knew about its existence so that was really cool!). Big plate of meat for dinner, and now I’m going to die on my bed. Bleh.

Monday, 12th:

Died at the Acropolis (Editor’s note: please use different verb in future case of death). The views were amazing, especially the west side which had Salamis, Aegina, and even the Peloponnese right at the back. More cats. Frequently left behind by group because of my chronic addiction to scenery shots. Seek help upon return. Quick run past the Roma Agora before lunch. I had the best time at Lulu’s bakery: pomegranate juice, lemon tart, and black forest gateau. It felt like proper writing weather, or at least weather where you feel completely comfortable sitting outside a café and watching the world go by.

The British School of Athens was also really cool for a couple of reasons. A scholar there made me realise that children are basically invisible to historians and archaeologists, and the lecturer made me realise that I had never seen disability portrayed in Greek pottery, sculpture etc. And then I meet an old lecturer from King’s at the reception afterwards, which was really nice! I’m now convinced I should take a year out before doing a Master’s. It was actually a surprisingly enjoyable and enlightening experience, which is always nice.

Went out for dinner with Michael. Had a chicken and feta thing with rice. Rather tasty. Chatted about Greece, politics, Europe, the future. Delivered his mail to him. Apparently they’re not orange trees, but he doesn’t know the word in English so I’m stuck in description purgatory. In my restless dreams I’ll see those not-oranges and weep at my inability to name them. I am now deceased (Editor’s note: *suppressed sigh*)

Tuesday, 13th:

Day trip to Delphi. Greek countryside is either ridiculously beautiful, or I’m just not used to seeing mountains in any capacity. I have a feeling it’s the latter. Regardless, it’s the first place to have trees that aren’t covered in lumpy not-oranges, but it also means that it’s bloody frustrating trying to take crappy photos of scenery with trees whizzing past every half-second. We stop at a petrol station en-route. I find those raspberry/blackberry sweets that they don’t have in England for some reason, and I take them all. I spend the rest of the trying and failing to do the view justice with my photos, and utterly failing.

We finally arrive around 11ish, and I…’fall over for lack of life’ again. There are too many cats. I discovered I could attract them by rustling the empty sweet packet, consequently my fleet of cats will finally be realised. I am cat-god now. Unfortunately I had to leave my fleet behind so we could actually see the place. I’m again distracted by the incredible view, but hear me out this time: when you go to Delphi, and see what I saw looking out from it, you’ll immediately understand why they decided to build a temple complex here. Those Greeks understood aesthetics alright. After forgetting I couldn’t speak Greek for a second, I didn’t take a rock as a keepsake to remember being there, I swear.

Back in town we got some lunch (but I walked the entire length of the place before ending up where I started) at a place overlooking the valley which opens up to a plain, which itself lead on to the Gulf of Corinth. I know it sounds weird that I’ve been focusing more on the view than the site itself, but good god it was stunning. There was a bunch of cool stuff in the museum: my boys Kleobis and Biton, the Delphi Charioteer, funky fresh statues, and sculptures everywhere. It’s almost like this was an important site in antiquity or something. A tiny cat waited to finish being petted by everyone. It was tiny and adorable but, frustratingly, eluded my affection. All in all I have more pictures of animals than I do of anything else. No regrets.

Wednesday, 14th:

Last half-day. Theatre of Dionysus was cool: didn’t realise it extended to the base of the acropolis, which made it much bigger than I originally thought. Asked a question about the walls of the acropolis, and it turns out a lot of the statues we’ve recovered were kind of just thrown in there when the Athenians rebuilt the walls after 480BC. I can imagine limbs sticking out of the stonework like some kind of fantasy villain’s fortress.

After some pop-culture references that came out of nowhere from our guide, we’re shown the Odeon of Herodes Atticus, who was possibly a paedophilic serial-killer. Suppose it’s more efficient than having to walk round every neighbour’s door individually; just look at my huge theatre where I’ve commissioned statues of my dead underage lovers instead. I trek up the other green hill in Athens to find out what the old thing I was seeing from the acropolis was. Was severely disappointed: it was a grave-marker for a Syrian diplomat that helped the Athenians in their negotiations with Rome when they were doing something or other? It was made specifically to be seen from the acropolis and has nothing on the reverse of it, making it a very flat piece indeed. I did get to see the prison of Socrates on the way back down though, which was fun. Probably wasn’t for him though. I can see why hemlock would be an attractive option after being in there for any length of time.

Huge waffle for a late breakfast, and then back on the coach to go home. I’m not looking forward to remembering I have a life with obligations and deadlines, but as long as I don’t see another bloody cat I’ll be content.

Essays from the Crypt: Downing Street Cat has Most Stable Job in Politics

(Originally published July, 2016)

Downing Street Cat Has Most Stable Job in Politics

Larry, or ‘a cat’ as he is commonly known, is considered by Whitehall elite to have the most stable job in politics, after he was one of few public figures to retain their position following a spate of high-profile resignations in recent weeks. In a statement earlier this week, Larry was quoted as saying ‘meow’.

Larry, the self-styled ‘Chief Mouser to the Cabinet Office’, has weathered the post-Brexit storm with impunity, outlasting many senior figures of British politics, including the resignation of his close friend David Cameron, whom critics have observed to have had Larry literally eating out of his hand at various points of his governance.

Larry has also outlasted professional resigner Nigel Farage, who recently stepped down as Party Leader after a surprise victory for the Leave campaign. Nigel Farage, who replaced Nigel Farage as UKIP Leader in 2010, is widely tipped to replace Nigel Farage as Party Leader.

Chief Mouser Larry has often been praised by the establishment for his nonchalance regarding political parties and national crises, maintaining a :3 face throughout. Larry’s disassociation from the political scene is only rivalled by Tim Farron, who has generally felt a bit left out, and is currently ranked #3 in Most Forgettable Politicians behind that other guy and the one with the glasses.

Larry’s career follows on from a brief stint in Rehab for substance abuse at the Battersea Cats and Dogs Home, from which he left in 2011, and has been a campaigner for stricter catnip control ever since. He follows in the footsteps of other Chief Mousers, including Humphrey (a vocal critic of the Falklands War during Thatcher’s premiership), and the Munich Mouser, so-called for her contributions to the Security Service in combatting fascism in 1940’s Europe.

The trial continues.