St George's Day

It's St George's Day.

I'm not making any particular observation or point about it. I just happened to remember in the morning of the day itself rather than a couple of days afterwards like I usually do. In commemoration of this rare event, here's a piccy from Wiki...

St George's Day

It's St George's Day.

I'm not making any particular observation or point about it. I just happened to remember in the morning of the day itself rather than a couple of days afterwards like I usually do. In commemoration of this rare event, here's a piccy from Wiki...

D-Fens

I spent most of this morning and lunchtime in a meeting. Coffee and sandwiches were provided, but they were standard civil service fare, which means that the coffee seems to be the lineal descendant of the acorn coffee produced in Germany during the war on the one hand and British Rail sandwiches on the other. Since British Rail hasn’t existed as a corporate entity since 1997, the survival of its ‘catering’ as a branch of the civil service is not, I suppose, a surprise.

I am confidently informed that what we were served came from the gourmet menu. Now my dictionary – and it is a big dictionary – defines gourmet thusly:

gourmet n. a person who cultivates a discriminating palate for the enjoyment of good food and drink. [C19: from French, from Old French gromet serving boy.]

I can only assume that gourmet has been used in this sense as an example of a plate of sandwiches that would repulse a truly discerning palate. Does anyone remember the scene in the burger bar from Falling Down where the protagonist, William 'D-Fens' Foster holds a limp burger against the advertising photo and asks “What is wrong with this picture?”

A civil service gourmet sandwich platter is of that order.

I’m hungry.

D-Fens

I spent most of this morning and lunchtime in a meeting. Coffee and sandwiches were provided, but they were standard civil service fare, which means that the coffee seems to be the lineal descendant of the acorn coffee produced in Germany during the war on the one hand and British Rail sandwiches on the other. Since British Rail hasn’t existed as a corporate entity since 1997, the survival of its ‘catering’ as a branch of the civil service is not, I suppose, a surprise.

I am confidently informed that what we were served came from the gourmet menu. Now my dictionary – and it is a big dictionary – defines gourmet thusly:

gourmet n. a person who cultivates a discriminating palate for the enjoyment of good food and drink. [C19: from French, from Old French gromet serving boy.]

I can only assume that gourmet has been used in this sense as an example of a plate of sandwiches that would repulse a truly discerning palate. Does anyone remember the scene in the burger bar from Falling Down where the protagonist, William 'D-Fens' Foster holds a limp burger against the advertising photo and asks “What is wrong with this picture?”

A civil service gourmet sandwich platter is of that order.

I’m hungry.