TThe other day I indulged in a kind of meltdown that I simply wouldn’t have had the capacity for before March 2020. Things went downhill at Stockwell Continental, my local South London cafe-and-pizzeria-and-deli.
“What do you mean that you don’t have any marinated artichokes?” I bleated. “And how can you do without Carnaroli rice? Vialone Nano won’t work. “Binners, the manager, therapist and basically my best friend, put a canola in my mouth while he stroked a kombucha, reassuringly:” I know, Betts, I know, but sometimes the others are Boys and girls come first when they stop by for their self-healing ‘nduja’.
The time was when most of us couldn’t even pronounce “nduja” and our collective consumption was devoted to shopping for clothes