Yeah, you could go to Green Lanes with all the other foodie bores for some ethically sourced lamb, served on a bed of angel tears and artisan houmous. But more likely is that you’ll spend the entire day getting bladdered in the pub and then, at closing time, grab a pitta pocket spilling over with floppy slices of ‘elephant leg’ the colour of a queasy zombie. Which is exactly what you’ll be in the morning.
2. Street hot dog
The logical mind says: You’re not an American. You can’t just wolf down a dawg on the street like some wisecracking cop, called Lenny ‘Pork Chop’ Kowalski or something. It’s just not right, it’s not the British way. But the drunk mind says: cylinder meat = good. Give me cylinder meat and ‘mystery’ chilli too, all from a sweaty dude with a cart on Tottenham Court Road, who at that moment may just be the greatest chef on earth.
3. Fried chicken
Friday nights used to be so easy. Get mortal drunk, go to the chicken shop, get chicken (Junior Spesh is £1.50; mayonnaise 20p extra), stumble home and watch ‘Extreme Cheapskates’ on TLC until the sun comes up (all the time weeping for your pathetic, wasted youth). But these days you can’t get to the counter because a Channel 4 documentary crew is in the way, dying to film you pissed and singing or pissed and fighting or (the jackpot) pissed and fighting and singing. It won’t stop you trying, though. Nothing comes between a drunk and his deep-fried bird.
4. Fridge surprise
The fridge is all but empty. A sober person at a reasonable hour would either open a can of beans or ring for a curry. But you’re not a sober person and this isn’t a reasonable hour. Suddenly, your eye is caught by what might be a two-month old pasta bake, or maybe chicken korma from a couple of weeks back, or maybe a succulent chilli con carne that has been maturing for a full year. Whatever’s lurking underneath that delicious preservative mould has you salivating like Pavlov’s dog at a bell-ringing convention. Because what goes better with a hangover than food poisoning?
5. Home-cooked mess
You’re dangerously drunk and your breath contains more booze than a Prohibition bathtub. What now? Now you play with fire. The recipe for ‘home-cooked mess’ is simple: heat one frying pan until smoking, wrap smoke alarm in tea towel, add eggs (whole), bacon (all of it), pineapple (whole) plus a handful of Coco Pops for texture. Then fry it until you fall asleep with your head in the washing machine. It’s the perfect place to think about important questions like: Who am I? What is life? And why is my kitchen on fire?
By Michael Curle, who is teetotal (on Tuesdays).
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