Snobbery

Clicking through the pages of the Times online paper, and checking out various events going on back in the UK, I see a link on 'seasonal produce'. Given I'm a bit of a foodie, I click on this and am immediately greeted with the caption: Purple sprouting broccoli, uncovered.

I read further, and gradually I'm turning my nose up at the article, and by the time I'm at the end its a full blown sneer. Showing disdain, or meprisé, has always been something I did best, says OH.

It's not so much the article on the seasonal broccoli, nor is it the suggested recipes. It's more the way the article is written in an almost condescending tone. How to prepare, what to look out for etc etc. Then I catch myself: I have become a food snob.

I'm not sure when this happened, the transition of gourmand to le gourmet meprisé, but increasingly I'm finding myself with reactions that I am ashamed of. Dinner can be completely ruined by a less than satisfactory sauce reduction, badly executed good ideas can make me lose my appetite, and just this weekend gone, a fantastic meal, punctuated by a lamentable créme brulèe (more a sweet ouefs brouilles).

It's a (self) phenomenon which I'm pondering the ramifications.

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