Nine things your parents fed you that you wouldn't dream of giving your kids

IN DECADES past, loving parents dished up these foodstuffs to their children and somehow they survived. You’d never give this shit to your own kids:

Findus Crispy pancakes

Salty processed meat or cheese in a pocket of gluteny crap that’s still swimming in your arteries to this day, awaiting the inevitable heart attack. But so delicious.

Turkey ham

Is it turkey? Is it ham? Nobody knows and nobody cares because you’d eat that bad boy right from the packet while you were waiting for your dinner.

Bernard Matthews Turkey Roast

Processed turkey meat rolled up into a convenient family meal. Best not to think about how much actual meat was in them, or the percentage that was reclaimed turkey anus.

Boil-in-the-bag cod in parsley sauce

Smelt so much worse than it tasted, which left plenty of leeway for it to taste f**king foul. Plopped on the plate next to some Smash and frozen peas, your parents felt this was a nice healthy meal and would nag you to eat the lot or you wouldn’t get any Angel Delight.

Pop tarts

A breakfast and agony in one, because if you dared bite into it before an undefined cooling period your mouth and tongue would be severely burned on white-hot sugary jam. But American kids ate them so you did because America was so cool then.

Sunny delight

Looked like juice, tasted like juice, but was actually liquid sugar plus E-numbers now banned by the EU. Set for a comeback.

Turkey Twizzlers

What was it about the 90s and turkey? Was there a turkey overpopulation we’d sworn to cull by any means? The chicken dippers of the decade were shaped into an attractive spiral to underline how unnatural it was. Bloody lovely though.

Crinkle-cut chips

Whichever genius decided chips would be better cut crinkly, they were right. Fried in a pan of fat on the hob, full of salt and served with fishfingers and frozen mixed veg. This is why your parents needed that chest freezer in the garage. They were visionaries.

Mini kievs

Balls of processed chicken with a garlic cream centre, like a gross Cadbury’s Creme Egg you can enjoy all year round. Were considered sophisticated and continental.

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The office worker's guide to pissing away your lunch break

THE lunchbreak is an oasis of free time in a dull, unrewarding working day. Waste that precious break like a pro:

Go for a little walk

Your desk is a grim reminder of your shit job, so stretch your legs and experience the world outside your office. If you plan your route wisely, you’ll be able to visit all the shops you’re bored of walking past and listen to a busker make Ed Sheehan worse. The health benefits of the walk will be negated by inhaling traffic fumes.

Buy a crap meal

Will today be a Boots meal deal, an overpriced chicken wrap or something hot you’ll struggle to finish in time? Either way it beats anything you could bring from home on price, while tasting roughly the same and leaving you bloated and sleepy.

Browse the shops

Why not wander into a largely disused shop – HMV or Waterstones are good – to listlessly pick up items you’re not interested in while minutes you’ll never get back pass forever from your grasp? Why shouldn’t your lunch be as fatiguingly capitalist as the rest of your day?

Eat at your desk

All the benches in town are filled with dead-eyed office workers eating lunch, so head back to your desk. A bubbly colleague will say you’re eating ‘al desco’ and you will make a laughing sound completely devoid of joy. Slip on headphones and hear your own mastication in stereo.

Chat to colleagues

If you’re desperate for distraction, chatting to colleagues could be the answer. They won’t have anything interesting to say but you might uncover a flaw in their character to exploit at a later date. Or run down the clock by scrolling through social media. It’ll soon be over.

Start working because it’s more fun

Even though you’ve got 20 minutes left, call it a day and knuckle down to work again. Staring at a spreadsheet is easier than pretending to enjoy your freedom, plus your boss might admire your dedication. Or at least they would if they weren’t down the pub having a two-hour lunch with wine.

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