Going off piste

  If you've ever accompanied me out and about while looking for sustenance, you'll know I can be a bit of a pain in the arse. I spout all sorts of sanctimonious nonsense about how I don't eat anything unless its organic seeds have been sprouted to organ music, in a vacuum, by a family who are sixteenth generation yoghurt carvers.

  It's all utter bollocks, of course. I like to stray and when I do I stray properly. The guide I like to stick by though, (which I thoroughly recommend), is to eat angel farts and grass clippings eighty to ninety percent of the time and go bonkers for the other ten to twenty percent. This way you're going to (probably) strike the best sort of balance between healthy and 'life is one long, miserable, joyless, tedious shit-fest of endless suffering', which nobody wants.

  Recently, while off piste, I noticed that even when I've let myself off the leash, there are still comestibles I have no interest in. This might be because I don't enjoy eating them, (think McDonalds or haribo), or because the thought of them makes my skin crawl, (margarine is probably the best example).

  However, I was slightly surprised by what I would eat. The most obvious is non-organic cow dairy products, normally something I avoid like the plague. Something I really enjoyed, (pictured above), was rotisserie chicken from a fast food joint. Their fancy machine, (see below), is something to marvel at as it uses actual charcoal to cook the cheap, non-organic chicken. I think I want one at home.

  I completely managed to forget that I'm totally opposed to factory farmed, hormone and anti-biotic filled chicken and I tucked right in, savouring the melt-in-the-mouth flesh and licking my fingers with abandon. It was so worth it and as it was such a rare indulgence, I have no regrets.

  I should add that if you invite me round for dinner and you have spent ages making me the best meal you can then I'll lick the plate clean, no matter if, (and I hesitate slightly as I type this), you make a marshmallow pizza with red-bull sauce which was deep fried in margarine. Please don't, if you're stuck for menu ideas, give me a call.

  The point of all this? I'm not quite sure. It was just interesting for me to notice that there are some foods I would only consider eating if I was stuck on a desert island and in danger of starving, while there are others that require a modicum of self control.

Tomorrow, I'm hitting the road.

Kirk out

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