EATING from little huts is cool and trendy, but at what financial and emotional cost? These once-exhilarating outlets are now worse than an Asda ready meal:
Want a small wrap or even just a plate of loaded fries? Squint to avoid seeing the cost and losing your appetite, because it’s more than a week’s shopping at Aldi. As you watch a teenager slap it together in seconds, you wonder how much the overheads of a painted van can possibly be. Your burrito tastes like ashes as you smart from payment.
Unless you’ve savvily watched other market goers, you’re expecting a tray groaning with dumplings for your £14. Walking away, you lift garnishes and realise you’ve got the equivalent of small fries from McDonald’s. The irony of then having to buy large fries from McDonald’s because you’re still f**king hungry does not bring you mirth.
Whether it’s paper tubs or endless wrapping, your hard-earned bounty will be presented in a manner detrimental to consumption. Armed with flimsy wooden cutlery, you’ll expend most of the calories of the meal trying to hack it into sensible pieces. For the eager punter who goes straight in, the pinoy pork skewers’ artistic presentation will ruin your shirt.
Probably bad for you
Much street food is genuinely delicious, due to being fried like a Glasgow Mars Bar then drowned in every sugared condiment known to man. The vendor’s cheery on-the-go-vibe and vague exoticism mask that you’ve inhaled the amount of fat recommended in a month.
Awkward waiting period
Restaurants bring you your food. Street food makes you live life on the edge as you hover or watch your defective buzzer until the food gods deign to summon you. Having to weave through crowds to track down and protect your precious chilli dog takes you back to the hunter-gatherer days, when everyone ate outside in the pissing rain.
Influencers ruin everything
When a genuine gem pops up, you can rely on TikTok twats to ruin it. Your breezy, spontaneous lunch becomes the Hunger Games as you’re herded into the crowd of followers who must be pictured with the deep-fried bean curd clusters you discovered on Tuesday. You’re served after 45 minutes and eat in the only free spot, by the bins.