It's that time again. Here's what you've all been waiting for, the nervous tension reaching a climax, the anticipation almost unbearable as you hit refresh with ever increasing frequency, sweaty palmed at what porky joys await.
I'll try to let you down gently. Most of September's pig related fun came in the form of Spanish jamon, British bacon appearing on my menu just the once in a spectacularly underwhelming effort from the Breadbox kiosk in Manchester Piccadilly station.
It didn't cost much (£2 or £2.50 including a tea?), but that's where the compliments end. It's one of those places where the breakfast butties are pre-made, then reheated in some sort of industrial megamicrowave grill machine that zaps the shit out of them in mere seconds, somehow rendering the bacon fiercely hot yet limp and flabby, and the bread damp inside but dry out. There's a reason microwaves with grill functions never took off.
That ought to be your lot, but I did say I'd let you down gently, so just for the hell of it here's October's first entry. I ate it at lunchtime on the first so it wasn't far off September.
This was better, a £2.20 large from our Gert's cafe in Walkley, Sheffield. A good soft roll harboured three rashers of sturdy, rough hewn bacon. The cooking was a touch irregular, some bits crispier than others, but other than that a solid effort. The chap serving was friendly, but he didn't offer me any sauce. No sauce! What is the world coming to.
Three more months and the ordeal will be over. It's becoming increasingly clear from the leaderboard that most bacon sandwiches are mediocre, and you'd be better making your own. Ho hum.
I'll try to let you down gently. Most of September's pig related fun came in the form of Spanish jamon, British bacon appearing on my menu just the once in a spectacularly underwhelming effort from the Breadbox kiosk in Manchester Piccadilly station.
It didn't cost much (£2 or £2.50 including a tea?), but that's where the compliments end. It's one of those places where the breakfast butties are pre-made, then reheated in some sort of industrial megamicrowave grill machine that zaps the shit out of them in mere seconds, somehow rendering the bacon fiercely hot yet limp and flabby, and the bread damp inside but dry out. There's a reason microwaves with grill functions never took off.
That ought to be your lot, but I did say I'd let you down gently, so just for the hell of it here's October's first entry. I ate it at lunchtime on the first so it wasn't far off September.
This was better, a £2.20 large from our Gert's cafe in Walkley, Sheffield. A good soft roll harboured three rashers of sturdy, rough hewn bacon. The cooking was a touch irregular, some bits crispier than others, but other than that a solid effort. The chap serving was friendly, but he didn't offer me any sauce. No sauce! What is the world coming to.
Three more months and the ordeal will be over. It's becoming increasingly clear from the leaderboard that most bacon sandwiches are mediocre, and you'd be better making your own. Ho hum.
No comments:
Post a Comment