I voyage across South London to see
if I can source tonight’s ingredients
without using Tesco or Sainsburys.

I precure chicken portions from the quaint
free range organic butchery in Dulwich
then scored my veggies from the cockney gents

who never pronounce tees and drop each aitch
unless they’re calling Wayne Rooney a twa-t!
I now admit I almost met my match

buying ketchup from the franchise market
part owned by local Bangladeshis
and some shady Irish conglomerate.

I spanned the borough, walked by terraces,
gated communities and rough estates
which still makes me a bit of a pussy

compared to ancestors that knew the Great
Famine of 1845, or those
hunter gatherers that made it through the Late

Pleistocene epoch. At least I choose
to keep my pennies from the corporate mammoth
and get to know these gritty Southwark streets,

walking that extra mile for fair trade houmous.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. peter litton
    Nov 20, 2011 @ 02:00:53

    Here in lies the difference between men and women.
    Women buy a load of ingredients, whilst doing a big shop, and then try to construct a meal from it.
    Men know what they want to cook and then go in search of the ingredients.
    I hope that doesn’t sound sexist, it’s just the way it is.

    I liked the references to the Palaeocene epoch and mammoths (word association with mammon or was it just their size?)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,501 other followers

%d bloggers like this: