I would like to politely request that peas be outlawed.
And, no, I do not believe that this is unreasonable of me.
This plea has come about as the result of a nightmarish experience that I had this afternoon. I was ambushed. By my food, of all things.
I bought a pasty from the nice trolley lady (the lady with the food cart, not a grotesque dwarf lady who lives under a bridge) and I made a horrific discovery.
Yes. It was peas. Well done, you, for guessing. You can have a gold star.
Now, it is my opinion that this type of food booby-trapping should not be allowed! I should be able to enjoy what is, in my experience, normally a wholesome, enjoyable and, most importantly, completely-devoid-of-peas food item in a safe and non-threatening legume-free environment.
It is simply not acceptable that my lunchtimes be terrorised by extraneous vegetables. Especially not ones that I dislike intensely.
We live in a world in which companies have to point out to people that coffee may, in fact, be hot; that peanuts may, incredibly, contain nuts; that you should not use a hairdryer to dry your hair whilst you are still in the shower; and that carelessness causes fire. So, even if an outright ban on peas is not feasible, would it not – at the very, very least – be reasonable for caterers who feel the need to tamper with long-established recipes, such as those for pasties, to supply a warning on their resulting unholy and sacrilegious creations to that very effect?
A catastrophe could have been averted today, if only somebody had shown a bit of initiative. After the cooking process, that is. They showed quite enough in the early stages, thank you very much.
And, no – before any of you pea-defenders out there start on me – peas are not "inoffensive". Why is it that the best word that anybody can think of to use in their defence is that one? Nobody has ever tried to convince me that peas are "nice" or "tasty", or in any way likely to contribute to an enjoyable culinary experience… No, the best I ever hear is that peas should not cause me offence.
Well, they do. They upset me greatly.
And, anyway, inoffensive is such a broad term. I find postboxes inoffensive. I see no offence in hamsters, gerbils, guinea pigs, or other such rodents. I take no umbrage at pine furniture.
I have never felt affronted by Bruce Forsythe.
But I wouldn't appreciate seeing any of those things wrapped up in pastry and masquerading as my lunch. No matter how hungry I was. And sometimes I get very hungry indeed.
I once discovered a rogue pea in a curry. For the record, it was a very hot curry – either a vindaloo or a phall – and there was a random pea lying, maliciously, in wait for me. A malevolent, sneaky ninja pea which I inadvertently ate. And, despite all the strong spices and flavourings of the curry, I could still taste it. And it tasted bad. Very bad. In fact, if I had not been able to taste its peaish nastiness, how else could I have possibly known that it had been there, eh?
Now, I'm not well up on my fairy tales, but I'm fairly certain that this was one of those tests that demonstrates whether or not a person is actually a princess. And I shall be looking into this.
And – rest assured – should I find out that I am a princess, I shall be rallying royal support for my anti-pea campaign.
And using the words peas and inoffensive in a sentence together will become tantamount to treason, so be warned.
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