Hospital food is 'bad' to a gourmet chef. To the ordinary British person if's fine. Not great but something we love to moan about, like the weather. It is what it is, broaden the scope and all the old people and children will be too bewildered to eat it. They don't want pesto on the paediatric ward, Lloyd, it's got pine-nuts in it, half the kids will be allergic. The oldies won't eat sea bass on a lentil mish-mash Lloyd, it reminds them of days their parents used to talk about, when they were too poor for meat and potatoes.
Once, I contrived to spend a week in XXX General. I'm not proud of this and I won't be naming dates etc. At the time, work, toddlers, husband and various other issues were wearing me out. Going in with a very minor gynae whinge was bliss. I got there, snuggled up in bed with a telly on a trolley and that was it. Even though they quickly discovered nothing was wrong with me and tried to persuade me to leave, no way was I going any where. I managed to stay for a week, enjoying three lovely meals a day, cheery gossip, comings and goings and the general camaraderie. Each time the doctor came I would invent odd symptoms (my work as a women's mag journo came in handy for that) or say I still felt bad. The small, camera-through-the navel invasive procedure I had was worth it for that week off my life. I had puddings every day, cups of tea regularly and a nice pile of magazines and books. They threw me out in the end but honestly, the food was the best part! I must have gone home a stone heavier but it was hard to drag myself away from that rhubarb crumble.
I've no idea why I like this cosy grub so much, but wait....my right-on mother would not let me have the 'unhealthy' school dinners when I was a kid. While the others were shoving the braised lamb around their plates or swooping in on the fried fish, I was messing around with wholemeal sandwiches and fruit, sitting alone on the 'sandwich table'.
Right on parents and Lloyd Grossman, there's a message there.
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