Fast food in all its glory

There have been many times when I have been in need of a boxed dinner. 

Late night decorating in the new flat was followed by a gourmet session of food on the floor while involuntarily sucking in the chemical fumes lightly smoking off the new oven. 

Frustrated writing sessions resulting in too much caffeine/alcohol have subsequently led to the need for emergency mash to rectify the situation. 

And sometimes it’s simply the emotional support a ready meal provides in times of need - it’s funny how quickly an existential crisis can be rectified by a congealed four-minute lasagne.

Ready meals seem to be my go-to when I’ve gone over my limit. 

And I don’t mean in gin. Just my mental limit. When everything seems like it has gotten too much and the idea of cooking - or even just standing in the kitchen and making small talk with my housemates - just isn’t do-able.

It’s the same gratification that I got from buying a box of 20 chicken nuggets in Mcdonalds. I happened to be in Paris at the time and couldn’t find anywhere to eat.

After circling Gare Du Nord several times in the rain - on a Sunday night - we resorted to fast food. It was familiar and even though I didn’t order enough sachets of ketchup, it was still just as good.

We were tired and in need of some proper nutrition. But there we were, shovelling in over-salted fries and nuggets from a cardboard box.

I remember a similar experience in Malta. We arrived late and needed food at around 10pm. A nearby café was still serving. We sat down at a plastic table and chairs and quickly scanned the menu. I spotted spaghetti bolognese, gin and tonic. Done.

Some of the best meals I have ever had have been the opposite of gourmet. But that’s because they’ve been consumed in moments of enlightenment or productivity. Or simply at the end of a great night.

My final memory of ready meals relates to an ad hoc escape from my house share to go eat with a friend nearby. I picked up a sausage and mash ready meal and hurried up the road. I was greeted with a Baileys and I had my dinner balanced on my knees as I ate. We laughed until the small hours.

In short, ready meals and fast food might not be the best food, but they can accompany some of the best times.