{"id":5171,"date":"2023-07-21T10:50:27","date_gmt":"2023-07-21T10:50:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.eatmcr.co.uk\/?p=5171"},"modified":"2023-07-21T11:26:36","modified_gmt":"2023-07-21T11:26:36","slug":"everybodys-allowed-a-little-glamorous-lunch-as-a-treat","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.eatmcr.co.uk\/culture\/everybodys-allowed-a-little-glamorous-lunch-as-a-treat\/","title":{"rendered":"Everybody’s Allowed a Little Glamorous Lunch. As a Treat"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

I have, for quite a long time now, allowed a gnawing resentment to fester regarding the status of lunch in the daily mealtime hierarchy. <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dinner is the main event, it goes without saying. The meal which the entire day builds towards. Breakfast, meanwhile, not only gets the ‘Most Important Meal Of The Day’ honours bestowed upon it, it also benefits from the mountain of marketing fucking brunch has received over the last few years in a way that lunch most certainly fucking does not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Brunch is, after all, just breakfast where you get a bit pissed, but with more potatoes involved. Sometimes you might have a bit more chorizo than you usually would of a regular morning as well. But, essentially, it’s buzzword bullshit that robs from two superior mealtimes to deliver a wholly underhwelming event involving too much hollandaise and some very fucking questionable mimosas. Yet where is the associated credit for lunch that breakfast enjoys so much of from this late 19th century portmanteau?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lunch, it seems to me, is still treated like a working effort. It’s a mad dash to Tesco Express or Sainsbury’s Local for a meal deal that some arsehole in your office will then ‘hilariously’ slag off before you eat it in front of your computer. It’s a gap to be filled. Sometimes, obviously, you might make it to Morrison’s in Piccadilly Gardens and go fucking bananas on the salad bar or the hot counter before writing off the rest of the afternoon while doing that ‘definitely concentrating on some important work and not just shopping online for a new coat’ stare at your computer screen until the second the clock strikes five. You do you, king\/queen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even if you swerve Morrison’s and go buck wild on jerk chicken and goat at the seminal Rita’s Reign in the Gardens, there’s still a good chance you’re getting pissed wet through in the process and still having to eat at your desk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

None of this feels leisurely, which is what every meal should be. All mealtimes should be a total detachment from work and the stress related to it. Of course, they unfortunately cannot always be that, but the intent should be there. And lunch should not be playing second fiddle to fucking brunch. I cannot stress that enough. A lovely late lunch with a few drinks that organically flows into an evening session is hands down better than trying to throw 14 glasses of Prosecco down your throat in the space of 90 minutes and subsequently wondering round the Northern Quarter absolutely trousered at one in the afternoon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which, I guess, brings me to the point of this article and the meal which solidified my impassioned belief that we are, all of us, deserving of a glamorous lunch every now and again. As a treat. To remind us all that our afternoon meal should not be for the sole intention of powering us through another three or four hours of mundanity. It can be a reason to luxuriate. A soiree through small plates and big wines. An ascent from a casual late afternoon into a hedonistic early evening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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A post shared by Another hand (@another_hand_mcr)<\/a><\/p><\/div><\/blockquote>