every little village needs a proper little deli. the type that stocks all the gourmet food and wine we imagine we might need. the type that has an array of breads and baguettes to choose from, where we’ll ‘um’ and ‘ah’ as we try to make up our minds. “the baguette? no, the rye? but what about the sourdough?” we hesitate for a moment before deciding. “yes, the baguette, please” we’ll say with confidence, knowing we’ve made the right choice on this day.
but then we must choose what to fill it with. oh, what fresh agony is this? pickled this and marinated that, and we haven’t even looked at the salad ingredients! we could just be lazy and order a pasty, or maybe a quiche, because they do look appetising… but then we wouldn’t be able to create what will quite possibly be one of the most wonderful sandwiches we’re ever likely to have in our lives.
our eyes dart around the room, not knowing where to rest. shelf upon shelf, dainty little tidbits flirt with us, daring us to buy them. there’s fancy olive oil, and posh french mustard, and the type of pasta that makes us feel foolish for ever entertaining the notion that it’s ever ok to buy the supermarket variety. and just in case we happen to find ourselves sitting down to an afternoon treat of tea and scones, there are rows upon rows of delightfully fruity jams with the type of labels that look like they were made by hand and should be sold at the church bazaar to raise money for roof repairs.
“should we pick up some sweet treats too, you know, to have later?” we sheepishly ask, casting sideways glances at each other, hoping the other doesn’t say “no”. and because this type of food, with it’s fuss-free and wholesome charm, should be celebrated, we can even pick up a bottle of wine. or champagne perhaps. maybe even both. and if we’re going to do that, we should also purchase some crackers and olives because that’ll do nicely with the wine.
11 the weir, hessle
north humberside, hu13 0sb, uk