Tag: food

Complaint to Farmfoods

Dear Farmfoods customer care

I’ve never had a magical lamp, I’ve never rubbed it vigorously in the hope a mystical being would spring fourth and grant me three of my all-time wishes, which would be

  1. An end to man’s inhumanity to man (and woman)
  2. All people of all creeds and colours living in peace and harmony with each other and nature in a perfect utopian society
  3. Just loads of crisps

However, now, my top most wish is that I wish to complain in the strongest possible manor about your ‘Farmfoods Broccoli Florets’ purchased from your Bridlington branch of Farmfoods for an English pound coin.  I wish to complain in the strongest possible manor, but I shall not type ALL IN CAPITALS though the way I feel at the moment, that would be justified.  Imagine I am Mr Vincent Van Gough, let me paint you a picture with words, describing and detailing what has caused me such affront with your produce.  Enjoy, do!

Imagine this scene in your minds idea pouch, it is half past five on a mild Wednesday evening, while my darling wife of 43 years was busy in the kitchen preparing a delicious meal for us, I was busying myself in the living room trying to work the none video recorder, recorder.  It tapes telly programs without a VHS cassette, I don’t know how this dark magic works!  In time I finally found the recording of the series finale of Doctor Whom.  And just as I’d cued it to the right place my son brought in our dinner on the hostess trolley .  We all sat down to enjoy our meal whilst watching the baffling broadcast (Doctor Whu was never this confusing in the 70’s).

Our meal consisted of a roasted chicken bird with roasted potatoes and these Farmfoods broccoli Florets that I mentioned half a life time ago.  You see, I have a very picky pallet, I cannot abide the taste and texture of most green vegetables, they are abhorrent to me, but broccoli is one of the few greeneries I can tolerate.  My eating method for broccoli goes as follows

1.            Separate the broccoli from rest of food

2.            Isolate any stalk deemed too large for consumption

3.            Remove lengthy stalk, leaving green ‘head bush’

4.            If green head bush is too large segment into bite size clumps

5.            Consume

And this is what I was doing.  And after eating all the broccoli ponst my plate, save for one medium size clump I came to segment this section.  I chopped it in twain, cleaving it in two pieces.  I placed the first piece in my mouth and consumed it, seconds later I looked down as I was about to shovel the last chunk into my mouth.

That’s when it happened, that’s when everything changed! That’s when a look of horror, disbelief and shock came across my face.  I dropped my fork to my plate.  Were this a Hollywood movie film, the fork would have fallen in slow motion, I would be screaming NNNNOOO like a Darth Vader might and on screen would be revealed the cause of such emotions.

For you see, embedded in the broccoli clump, intertwined with the florets green leafy clumps, was half a small slug.  I couldn’t believe what I was looking at, I thought it might be a bit of mud or grit, somehow entrenched with the greenery.  But when I investigated further and removed the grey slimy body from the broccoli it was indeed a slug torso.

The retching began almost instantly.  I am convinced that the other half of the slug was in the other half of the broccoli head I had just consumed!  Thus meaning it was inside my tummy guts! The retching continued.  Now I’m a man of the world, I’ve eating a wide variety of foods, I’ve even once had some pasta! I didn’t care for it! But so great was my revulsion at the thought of this severed slug body I was utterly put off the rest of my meal, and I couldn’t even bring myself to have any pudding, which was proffiter rolls (from Farmfoods) and I love them a lot!

Quite frankly there is now no way I can ever eat broccoli again, how can I ever trust there won’t be a creature hiding within the fronds?  I simply don’t and can’t trust broccoli.

The only positive outcome of this whole ordeal is I know, that if I ever did become a ‘celebrity’ (which at my age is medically impossible) I would never be able to go on the celebrity jungle program and eat insects. So every cloud does have a silver lining!

I thank you for your time and patience in reading my communicate,  I attach a poor quality picture taken on my sons eye phone to show you said slug.  I cannot look at the image without feeling queasy.

Thank you again.

Cecil Thax

PS

I no longer trust cauliflower either!

 

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They sent a reply, just the usual stuff really, but they did send a £20 voucher to spend in farmfoods!

Dear Mr Thax

Thank you for your email.

I am concerned to hear about your recent purchase. We strive to ensure that all products supplied to us are of a standard and quality you would expect from Farmfoods. I have today forwarded your comments to the manufacturer of this product for them to look into further. If you do still have the original packaging and can let me know the best before date and batch code I can also pass that on to help with their investigation.

In the meantime, please accept my sincere apologies for the distress and inconvenience this must have caused. I would like to send you, with our compliments, a Farmfoods voucher as a gesture of goodwill.  I will send this to the address you have given below as soon as possible.

I do hope that you will continue to shop at Farmfoods as we do value your custom.

Kind regards
Andy Long

Broccoli slug

 

German Holiday Part 1

23rd September

I woke up by sliding off the bed at about half past 4 in the morning.  Cecil was oblivious to my moans and cries for help.  I wasn’t hurt but I was very confused.  For several seconds I didn’t know where I was or what had happened.  I sorted myself out, climbed into my bed and just to spite Cecil I shouted “all hands to battle stations!”  He shot up and ran right into the wardrobe.  He staggered back to bed and never mentioned it throughout the day.

I managed to sleep in till half past 11.  We were due to get the train to Hull at ten to two.  Dad shouted me out of bed, mostly because I hadn’t done anypacking and he also wanted to know what I wanted in my sandwiches.  I chose ham, cheese, another kind of cheese and salami.  And another thinner kind of ham.

By half past one me and dad were all set to go.  Mum refused to see us off because she was annoyed that she wasn’t going now, but it’s her own fault, she could have come, she just had to say!  We set off with 20 minutes to spare, which is good because

A) we were walking to the station and

B) dads bags weighed a ton.  We made it to the station with 8 minutes to spare, which we were both very pleased with.  Then came the announcement “The 13:51 train to Hull has been cancelled”.  A look of horror and disbelief shot over dads face.  He started crying openly.  He went to ask the station train man if they would be putting a bus or another train on, but he just sneered at dad and said ‘no’.

Father was mortified; I was annoyed I wouldn’t get to sample the various continental meats and cheeses.  Then a look came across dads face, a look of resolution and defiance.  He marched back up to the train man and demanded they put on a taxi for us.  The train man told him to ‘sod off’.  Dad got angry and demanded to speak to his manager. He claimed he was the manager.  Dad stormed off.

Quick as a flash I got on the phone to Len Shankroids, he owns a converted ice cream van which is now converted into a mini bus.  One teary phone call later and he was on his way to pick us up.

We were in Hull by half past 3.  Thank you Len, you’re a starman!

Then we waited for 30 minutes on the cold and windy bus concourse.  The bus came at exactly 4 PM.  The driver let everyone off for a wee.  It was another sea of grey hairs, wrinkly faces and unpleasant old cleavages.  We went and sat in our seats while everyone was away.  When the biddys came back on they all looked at me with a look as if to say “what is this young man doing on our biddy bus, this is for the over 60’s only.  You make me sick young man” I gave them a look which tried to say “I’m sorry I’m young, I’m only on here so me and my father can go to Germany to follow up a lead on a [SPOILER REMOVED] which might contain the riddles of the universe, don’t hate my youth” but I think I just looked constipated.

We got to the ferry terminal at about 5, and unlike the lax security down in Dover, there were random suitcase searches and bags x-rayed.  And I’m excited to say my bag was x-rayed and I was frisked.  Sadly not by the woman but by the man, luckily he didn’t try to check my member for hidden MI5 documents or knock off DVDs.  I saw the x-ray of my bag, it looked interesting, it was all red and yellow, not like a bone x-ray, though Teddy Watkins was clearly visible, and the man smirked at me for having a teddy on holiday.

We eventually got on the ferry and it took an age to actually set off.  But when it did it was bloody freezing because we were filming the outside for mum, so we came inside and had our free (eat as much as you want) meal. I had

•           Soup, cream of chicken (3 bowls)

•           Pork ribs (about 15)

•           Poppadums’ (5)

•           More poppadums’ (7)

•           Roast potato (too many to count)

•           1 roast carrot (never again)

•           Pots of cinder toffee ice cream (4)

•           Pots of chocolate ice cream (2)

•           A plate with crackers, cheese, salami, pepperoni and hams (a big plate x 3)

Then to finish it off I got a few hot chocolates from the free dispensing machine.  I want to live here!

Then we went and sat in a bar for about 3 minutes until we got intimidated by some shaven headed men talking racistly.

We’re in the cabin now.  Its 21:18.  Dad refused to take the top bunk so I am sleeping high up in the highest bunk I have ever slept in.  I’m terrified.  There is no guard rail to stop me falling out; if I do I will smash my fragile head on a tiny table.  And the boat is rocking quite badly.  Dads asleep and mumbling about torpedoes or something.  I’m going to try and get some sleep now.

I fear for my body.