It’s happened. Our lives have temporarily stopped obeying the laws of gravity; north isn’t north, we can’t count on the sky being above and the ocean below. The scaffold of our sanity has come loose, leaving us to drift weightless and anxious through a time lapse of bleary days and restless nights. We’ve smashed up our circadian centres, unplugged our body clocks and sent all daily rhythms and routines reeling off at a 45 degree angle. Nothing feels normal. Especially not meal times. Food has become about everything other than sustenance; it’s entertainment, safety, love, frustration, community and every fucking combination in between. So in honour of all you seven-a-day snackers, midnight feasters and wild card breakfast bandits - we have reshuffled the food groups to make sense of a time that makes no sense. Strap in for the new - Public Health England approved - corona food groups:
Stuff you didn’t buy so it doesn’t count (ft. house-mate’s bagels)
Back-of-cupboard resurrections (ft. forgotten miracle crackers)
Sad alternatives to the thing you actually wanted (ft. lentil chips, ‘crisped’ kale, 'fruit')
Cereal (dry /by fist / ft. milk)
Stuff eaten standing up in the kitchen (ft. peanut butter on a spoon)
‘Good’ fats (ft. fistfuls of salty peanuts, cake batter)
Out-of-body-experience chocolate (day dreamed your way through the lot without tasting a bite)
Things that are 6/10 when uncooked (ft. carrots, pitta breads, penne)
Misc oven tray scrapings (ft. *redacted*)
‘Roulette’ border-line items (ft. partially mouldy raspberries, mildly fermented milk)
Hummus (all the live-long day)
Half arsed vegan recipes (ft. 3 leftover packets of filo pastry and a squash)
Manic 2am bed snacks (ft. sheet crumbs and greasy pyjamas)
Written by Jess Bird
Image: Instagram
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