We carry our memories with us like a tortoise in a shell. In my case I remember trivia, more trivia and events that make me remember that I can preface a grumpy note with the introduction "I remember the good old days". So, here goes!
When I was a student, (a long time ago), my courses in ecology took me into the countryside where I found pubs that would serve reasonable and cheap quantities of excellent food. No gastro pubs or cloth napkins either. I found that a ploughman's lunch was a fantastic bargain, satisfying both pocket and appetite. It consisted of a large amount of well matured cheddar, thick slices of farm baked bread, pickled onions, thick Branston pickle, apple chutney, butter and if I could afford it ... a pint of bitter...
A few days ago I asked for a Ploughman's in a country pub ... name withheld ... the bread was "a baguette" forming a choking bolus to be swallowed, the cheese, unfit for mice ... grated, the pickle spread on the cheese in the bread and unavoidable. I ate some of it, suffered in silence and made no complaint. How could I? Since no one now remembers what a ploughman's lunch was really like.
Walter Vego
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Even though you say no one remembers a Ploughman's Lunch as it was, I still felt the urge to complain about the modern version on your behalf as I read your description ...
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