Tea or coffee?
Well, is it freshly ground coffee from a machine? Or is it instant? I sound like an awful ass, so I always hesitate to ask. Tea please, I say, with my heart longing for coffee.
Last week, my friend Sarah told a terrible, terrible, evil, evil lie. But she did it so well. Yes, from a machine, she said. Sarah and Phil are food snobs like me, so I had no reason to doubt her. And the coffee was gorgeous. Sarah sat there with a slight smirk on her face, but I didn’t realise at the time.
“So what was that lovely coffee?” I asked her.
“It’s instant coffee,” she replied. “It’s Nescafe! Nescafe Collection Espresso.”
But it doesn’t taste like instant! I’d been duped by a master. I felt like I was in an ad: “But it’s so fresh! It can’t be instant.” Any moment now I expected Sarah to hold up the jar and pose for the camera. And I hate myself for recommending this brand.
It reminded me of a time of youthful ignorance, when my granny served up lovely “chicken” to a pork-hating boy. I even complimented the chicken. She waited until I’d swallowed my last mouthful before gleefully informing me that I didn’t, after all, dislike pork. I’ve never looked back.
Have you ever been duped by evil geniuses with food lies? Or discovered that your dislike was all in your head?