Chips, cajun sweet potato soup, sandwiches, crackers with pâté and chutney, yoghurt, blueberries, mince pies

Three reviews in one day, and a long list of food for this one which hopefully shouldn’t take long to review as I’m feeling pretty wiped out this evening: in chronic illness parlance, I’ve used up all my spoons.

The supper special tonight was, as I mentioned in the lunchtime review, ‘seasoned fries’, by which they mean unseasoned oven chips. The last time I had them, unsuspecting, I got about (as memory serves) eight rapidly-cooling chips in a bowl, and wasn’t happy. This time I got a decent plateful, they were still warm, properly golden and crispy around the edges, and served magnificently in the only role I have ever seen for oven chips, which is to convey salt and ketchup (or sometimes mayo, if I’m feeling fancy and continental) to my mouth.

Today’s soup was cajun sweet potato. I clearly didn’t need potato soup with chips, but I was curious about the cajun flavour so had to have some. It definitely had more than a hint of a spiced flavour (but not particularly spicy – no real chilli heat): I wouldn’t say it was classic cajun, but then I had to look up what’s in cajun seasoning so what do I know?

It was tasty, which is the main thing, and a glorious colour, which doesn’t really matter but which made me happy.

Sandwiches were egg mayo, cheese mayo, and tuna mayo with cucumber. All fine. (I think I’m about sandwiched out, which I genuinely never thought was possible.)

I also had some giant water crackers with pâté and chutney, and some other crackers – wholewheat ones and cheesy ones – just on their own because they’re tasty enough to eat plain.

I had some blueberries from my now very impressive fruit stash (I almost have too much fruit now, but only almost – I can pretty much guarantee it won’t last as long as I think it will before getting eaten), a strawberry yoghurt, and a couple of mince pies (“they’ve been donated, we have loads, have two” – well, OK then!).

I find that the first mince pie of the year always hits different somehow. It can be the cheapest mass-produced pie ever put in a festive box and allowed to fall off the back of a lorry, and it will still be one of the best things I taste all year. When it’s a good mince pie, like this one (or two) – well, I swear a heard a flock of herald angels in glorious song¹.

Or not. They were nice mince pies, though, even if writing about them is annoying because my phone’s autocorrect wants to make them mince pie’s, and, as Bernard Cribbins once (almost) sang: you can’t put an apostrophe where an apostrophe don’t belong.

Yep, I think that’s a suitably obscure reference to end the day on!

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1. I may be mixing up my carols here. 🤔 ↩︎