Meal deal doldrums
There ain't no deal anymore
TW: exceptionally silly post.
Sometimes - not always, but occasionally - it’s really hard to beat a cheese and onion sandwich. Nothing fancy, just crap sliced bread, indistinguishable cheese, nondescript onion, mayo and butter. That sandwich snaffled in the sun when you take a break from your desk: delightful. And if you get a free drink and a pack of crisps thrown in for only a couple of extra pence, well, who can argue with that?
I can, that’s who. Meal deals used to be a proper little treat, but then the supermarkets seemed to catch on and decide to ruin it around 20171. I suspect it went something like this:
Interior, boardroom, supermarket bigwig sits at large conference table. Bigwig: Intern! I am hungry, bring me a luncheon, immediately! Intern (unpaid): But sir, 'tis Sunday! The cafeteria is closed, all I have is my own luncheon. BW: Then bring me yours! (chortles to himself). I hands BW a meal deal with a tear in their eye. BW: What is this delicious magic? Do WE sell this? I: Yes, this whole meal only costs £3! It allows us poor and busy folk a decent meal at midday or at 2am after too many VKs. BW: £3, for all this?! There is money to be made here, intern! We must ruin this deal immediately by increasing the cost and yet reducing the range of choices to maximise profits while simultaneously screwing the consumer. Also, you're fired! Scene ends with I weepily packing up desk while BW smugly chomps on Wotsits.
And so the downfall began. Slowly but surely the prices were cranked up, until suddenly you found yourself considering paying for a ‘premium’ main because you fancy both cheese and ham on a sandwich (you saucepot). What with the old COLC2 and the price of everything going up, I could almost accept the price rise. What I can’t accept is the simultaneous whittling down of choices. If you’re going to charge me more, at least give me back chicken and avocado on malted loaf, please. Or the three bean wrap when I want to go vegetarian - one cannot survive on falafel3 alone. Or Kit-Kat chunkies, where did they go? Probably unrelated but I still miss them.
As I mentioned, I quite like a cheese and onion sandwich because it goes fantastically with a cup of tea and you can put your salt and vinegar crisps (my meal deal snack of choice) inside the sandwich for a bit of crunch. The whole thing is rounded off with a green smoothie in order to include an element that isn’t beige and equipped with some kind of vitamin.
On paper, I suspect that this selection will likely lead to ridicule or possibly cancellation (if I could cause a sufficient uproar to get enough subscribers to then be cancelled I’ll consider the whole thing a personal victory). But therein remains the ultimate joy of the meal deal and something they can never take away from us: the sport of judging others for their absolutely heinous choices. While I love a cheese sandwich, you might consider that the move of a loser/recluse/tasteless philistine. But I’ll bet you’ve bought those little pots of grapes haven’t you, that are always a bit gone-off no matter how early it is in the day? You fool.
To preempt any backlash about my selection, here are some of my theories about what other meal deal choices say about the chooser:
Sandwich - any kind of wrap: really trying very hard to make a positive choice and, you know what, I salute you, but you’ve probably saved yourself about 40 calories and sacrificed a valuable sliver of happiness.
Sandwich - naked ham: by this I mean a plain ham sandwich. Give this person a wide berth.
Sandwich - prawn mayo: someone’s a bit of a fancy pants! And does not care about the ocean.
Drink - San Pellegrino sparkling water: this person is heavily aesthetics-driven, but remember that nobody is chic in a Tesco Express. Or, this person is hungover.
Drink - Lucozade Sport: definitely hungover. Or possibly an athlete?
Drink - Lilt: this person is committed to a good time, and personally I am here for it. You go, girl.
Drink - normal water: if this person gives you advice on the stock market (and they probably will), ignore it, as they clearly make poor investment decisions.
Crisps - flame-grilled steak McCoys: the Lynx/Yorkie of crisps, probably hates their wife4.
Crisps - Monster Munch: cares not a jot about having pickle-y breath all day, which shows they prioritize their own pleasure over the well-being of others. Do with that information what you will.
I could carry on with this all day. However, I’ve got a kitchen to paint, otherwise I’ll never get back on track with ‘proper’ writing and will still be eating meal deals in July. It wouldn’t be the worst thing - it’s not like I get a Boost bar for a snack, I’m not completely insane.
Yours in vinegary crumbs,
Deb
P.S. My friend George introduced me to the midnight meal deal in my first year of university: when you go to get your drinks for the evening, buy a meal deal at the same time and leave it for when you get back from the night out. Eat in bed, drunk. Life changing.
Probably too late but let’s all blame David Cameron. This is not an accurate date by the way, it’s simply the time in my life where I felt meal deal quality started to tank.
Cost of living crisis; cozzy livers (rubbish and boring, quite frankly).
Actually you probably could for quite a long time. All hail the chickpea!
Double checked this with my husband who said quietly “I like steak McCoys." Rude.