After barely any food yesterday and another drag of a night with insomnia I thought I’d cheer myself up with a tasty breakfast treat. Most of the breakfast establishments in Woolwich are just too horrific to visit, so I found myself in MacDonald’s. How bad can it be, I thought? I had no idea…

This was what MaccyD’s had the temerity to serve me under the pretence of it being breakfast:

This travesty of a dining experience consisted of a bacon roll with brown sauce and a hash brown. The roll itself was a flavourless piece of spongy pap; bread only in the very vaguest sense of the word. However, the appalling bread was not a patch on the utter horror that was the soggy, limp, strangely chewy and actively nasty bacon. I’ve had some pretty poor bacon in my life but this was a memorably ranking experience in the annals of vile food. The brown sauce? Well, it was brown. I’d like to dispense with the hash brown as rapidly as possible: it was a rancid lard-soaked conglomeration of fungal foot shavings. Only not so tasty.

I was staggered by how mind-bendingly nauseating this array of filth was. I could not bring myself to choke down more than a few mouthfuls. Even after a night of no sleep and little food there are some depths to which I cannot sink.

A bit earlier tonight the partner cooked a lovely creamy fish pie for dinner. When he hauled me out of bed to eat it I thought it smelled lovely. However, I am feeling so unpleasantly ill all I could manage were a couple of forkfuls. Tasted lovely, but my ‘man-flu’ (aka the cold I caught a few days ago) is placing limits on what I feel I can manage to eat.

So what has been my main source of calorific intake for the day? Until twenty minutes ago it had been the few doses of Lemsip I’d downed. But this is obviously far too weak and feeble for a hero of the drink world (if I may classify myself as such). So I just popped a bottle of Henry Westons Special Reserve Vintage Cider. Hooray! 8.2% of characterful pleasure. That with the spot, alright.

I’ve tried one of these ‘Oooh fancy!’ Australian lime marmalades before. This example comes from Rainforest Foods and it is made solely from finger limes which grow in the rainforests of Australia. Here’s the jar of it:

So, how does it taste?

The texture of it seems a bit strange, slightly granular. More noticeable than that are the screaming levels of acidity and bitterness. However, the lime fruit character is strong and very appealing and it is reasonably sweet too. When I look at these characteristics as a complete entity this seems really rather intense, but finely balanced and quite exciting in terms of its fruity vigour. It is really a lively, delicious and interesting marmalade. Many thanks to Aimee for sending this jar over from Australia for the partner and I to enjoy; we most certainly will enjoy it.

The question that always distracted me when thinking about limes goes like this: What was the point of limes before people invented the cocktail? After trying these couple of lime products the answer to my question could quite easily be “The point of limes is to make marmalade.”

Finally, never put a slice of lime in a gin and tonic as that is terribly bad form, only lemons can be used.

If you live in the UK you will have encountered the news that Cadbury, the iconic British chocolate manufacturer, has been snapped up by the American ciggie company Philip Morris in the guise of their subsidiary company Kraft. The outgoing chairman of Cadbury has even pronounced that job losses in the UK are an ‘inevitability’ after this takeover is finalised. Bad news, eh?

The loss of jobs in the UK is certainly not good news, but as far as the takeover in general is concerned I am not sure we should be too bothered. There are a couple of pertinent blog posts (riddled with spelling and grammatical errors, alas) on toryradio.com: “I don’t care who owns Cadbury” and “If you object to Kraft taking over Cadbury you better not use US goods”. These make it very clear that in a global economy this kind of takeover will happen all the time, and we should not demand protectionist laws to stop them from happening.

People who do want British industries to be protected from foreign companies buying them are thinking sloppily and have double standards. A vanishingly small number of people complain when British companies do well abroad and buy up their foreign competitors. Most of us would, quite rightly, complain if such advances by British companies in other countries were blocked by protectionist laws. This is why we have international trade laws, they (attempt) to allow a level playing field for all companies from all countries.

The odious Gordon Brown may say that the government is "determined" to ensure that Cadbury jobs are secure, but these things are not really in his domain to meddle with. If an international company wants to wind down its operations in a particular country no government could enact any legislation that would stop them from being able to do so. Gordon is just trotting out populist rubbish in the crazy hope that people might like him and his government a bit more.

Naturally the people working for Cadbury might be concerned about their jobs, but to decry the loss of a ‘Great British Institution’ is just small-minded and fails to see that such deals recognise the UK as a thriving and profitable economy which is good to be doing business in. I was quite surprised to read this blog post by a Conservative Parliamentary Candidate. He calls for outmoded protectionist laws to keep British things British. This seems an odd argument from a Conservative politician. I wonder how he would respond if the US blocked BP from opening more petrol stations there because they were a foreign-owned company. Free trade is what keeps both the world and local economies vibrant and ever expanding, we cannot retreat into our own little corner of the world and just hope everyone leaves us alone. If they did we would be broke.

As long as I can buy the occasional Wispa bar and the adverts remain amusing (sometimes lewdly suggestive, see below) I am not too bothered who owns Cadbury.

There are plenty more posts out in the blogosphere about the Cadbury takeover, some of which cite the specific qualities of Cadbury’s chocolate that they worry about being lost. Yes, I will buy the (very) occasional Cadbury’s chocolate product, but the Raedwald blog perfectly captures the synergy between the makers of Philadelphia and the manufacturer of Dairy Milk. However, he is wrong to suggest Charbonnel et Walker as purveyors of fine chocolate, Valrhona and Pierre Marcolini are far better.

The partner and I have got a bit too porky in recent years, so over the past couple of months we have made a conscious effort to shed some of the lard. Naturally, we could not cut down on our fine wine intake, nor indeed our occasional consumption of characterful beer, cider and perry, so we have attempted to alter what we eat.

I have largely stopped eating lunch (apart from the odd banh mi from Viet Baguette here in Woowich when I absolutely must have a quality lunch; the opening of this sandwich shop has improved Woolwich quite markedly) which I have found to be staggeringly difficult. I do not wish to whine about this excessively, as taking this medication has improved my life no end, but the anti-psychotic I am on to deal with my paranoid schizophrenia (Olanzapine) has the side effect of making one mind-bendingly, toe-curlingly hungry all the bloody time. Someone other than me might say that the hunger induced by Olanzapine makes ‘the munchies’ feel quite insignificant and utterly tolerable, but I wouldn’t know about that. The first time I was on it, about seven years ago, I’d go out and buy two packets of sandwiches for lunch, horse them down and then think “Oh I’d like some cake now”.

Our main effort on the calorie-controlling front is eating more sensibly. The partner does not have his post-work, pre-dinner sandwiches any more and the dinners we eat are less focussed on high butter content (less mash, oh no!). Tonight’s (somewhat early) dinner was a perfect example: hot and sour beef salad. Here is the recipe and see right for a picture. It is a characterful, interesting and totally satisfying dish. The ultimately pleasing ‘almost raw’, top-quality fillet steak-action that we all enjoy is present, combined with the hot and sour flavours of chilli, Thai fish sauce (nam pla) and lime juice. It may be perilously low in calories, but by cripes is it fun to eat.

I’ve blogged about hating salad in the past (here are my suggestions for improving more mundane salads) but in this one the salad element is quite minimalist. I would not suggest adding more lettuce, even if you are perverse enough to like it, as it is the most carcinogenic food per unit serving there is (see the last link about mundane salads). When I’ve served this and other salads of a similar character to guests I usually warn them not to eat the green bits.

So is this somewhat lighter eating pattern successful? Indeed it is! Since the end of November when we started this I have lost a shade over a most satisfactory 7kg. This is pretty good going, I feel. The partner has lost even more and I am incredibly proud of him for doing so. But sod losing weight as an excuse; hot and sour beef salad is a great dish any time you feel like a simple but characterful and highly gratifying meal.

Vietnamese sandwiches, also known as banh mi, are clearly the fast food choice of the moment. When they are well made from quality ingredients they combine fascinating flavours and textures which are totally harmonious and completely compelling. The first time we had was them was back in 2005 at Nicky’s Vietnamese Sandwiches in New York City. It was a real drag to get there, but the banh mi were impressively good.

People are sometimes surprised when I tell them banh mi are baguettes (which ideally should be made by using some rice flour along with wheat flour, this gives them extra-crispiness) and often have pate and mayonnaise as fillings. They do not think these are terribly Vietnamese ingredients. They forget that Vietnam was once a French colony and some of their foods became lodged in Vietnamese culture even after they left.

Pate and mayonnaise are common ingredients in the type banh mi, but other types of meat can be used. They will always contain pickled carrot and giant radish, which have a great crunchy texture and piquant flavour. Chillies are a minor component, but most places will add extra if you ask. They are seasoned with salt, pepper and usually Maggi seasoning sauce. So where can you get these wonderful things?

Not from Viet Baguette on Charlotte Place (near Goodge Street), that is for sure. Our experience there was so disappointing. The banh mi were nowhere near the quality they can attain, just plain boring with no passion or excitement, and the staff were a bunch of feckless drips. It did not deserve to be as busy as it was.

The identically named Viet Baguette on Macbean Street in Woolwich is a much more satisfying venue for banh mi of real quality. On our first trip we enjoyed them so much that I now go there regularly, whenever I am charged with the mood for a quality lunch. I’m amused they’ve pinned our review and pictures to their wall, fame at last!

Less far out from the central London action is Baguette and More in the Greenwich food market on Greenwich High Road (between Stockwell Street and Nelson Road). They have more flavours of banh mi here, including a brilliant barbecued pork version which is our favourite option from them. This is a slightly better source than Woolwich’s Viet Baguette (quite brilliant as they are) because of their broader range of offerings, but it is only open at weekends. You have to eat outside (benches provided) which is a bit vexatious when is cold or raining, but order one of their banh mi and you will soon smile. They have a branch in Broadway Market as well.

The banh mi establishment in central London we really want to visit is Mon Me in the Sunday Upmarket off Brick Lane in Spitalfields. It gets rave reviews, like this one in The Independent, but we are yet to feel like trekking into The City on a Sunday (the only day it is open) even with the promise of top banh mi if we do. We’ll be there when the weather improves a bit. Many thanks to unwholey on Twitter for giving me a ‘heads up’ about this establishment.

Banh mi are about as interesting as sandwiches get (although I will admit to liking very simple sandwiches from time to time), if you are yet to experience them you should rectify that as soon as possible.

We have tried to get into Yalla Yalla a couple of times, but it has always been heaving. When we rolled up for a pre-theatre dinner at five in the afternoon we were delighted to get a table, and even more delighted by the food (shame the performance we went on to see was such a drivelly load of old rubbish).

Yalla Yalla promises a taste of Beirut, and if you’ve eaten much Lebanese food you’ll know that is not as worrying as it sounds; Beirut street food can be seriously good. They have a range of wraps sitting on the counter, handy if you just want to drop by to pick up a tasty sandwich for lunch, but it was the main menu which drew us there. Click on that link and try to resist all of those wonderful sounding dishes. We couldn’t.

Order a couple of mezze per person (to share). The only one we had which was a tad on the pedestrian side was the grilled halloumi, everything else was the very best example of that particular Lebanese dish we have tried. The baba ghannouj and kibbe nayye (raw lamb, which they made sure we knew before they took the order for that) were just the cat’s arse.

Our main courses were also on the seriously pleasurable side of experience. I was particularly jollied up by my kafta meshoué, which was a brilliant re-working of the kebab concept. The mixed grill provided quite a lot of meat which was too much for our guest, but we helped her finish it and enjoyed every mouthful.

One of the really pleasing things about Yalla Yalla is the thought that has gone into the composition of the dishes. Rather than everything being served with an identical salad or the same style of rice, most of the dishes are presented with accoutrements that match the dish, be they vermicelli rice or smoked green wheat with raisins, prunes and apricots.

Yalla Yalla don’t take bookings, so if you urgently need quality Lebanese food get there early. We were the first diners of the evening to arrive, by six it was full. They have Lebanese wine and beer on offer (go for the beer), some cocktails (which I didn’t notice on the menu until I was on my third beer, curses!) as well as a baroque selection of fruits juices. Neither the food nor the drink will break the bank, so go crazy and enjoy those tastes of Beirut.

Contact details: Yalla Yalla, 1 Green’s Court Soho, W1F 0HA Telephone: 020 7287 7663

I’m just reading an article on the Daily Telegraph about the new food strategy that is being cooked up by the loony, control-freak government in Blighty. It is pissing me off no end.

Hilary Benn, the Environment Secretary who is cooking this up is clearly a nutter in the very worst sense of the word (he is also a vegetarian). By way of demonstration, he thinks that the government has to right to tell shops if they can have ‘buy one get one free’-offers. What the hell do supermarket offers have to do with the bloody government? It is none of their freaking business. Restaurant menus also need health and carbon-footprint labels, we are told. What a pile of overly-bureaucratic toss.

The Labour party think we need ‘big government’ to look after us and tell us what we can and cannot do. They want to meddle in the minute details of our lives and they have no reason for doing so. Most notably under the influence of the odious Gordon Brown, Labour has sought to move us away from the laudable Anglo-Saxon model of ‘all that is not specifically forbidden is permitted’ to a more Continental system of ‘all that is not specifically permitted is forbidden’. As a freedom-loving Englishman this vexes me no end.

As we know, it is a mistake to think that the evils of the world can be cured by legislation. Having legal limits on the size of a packet of crisps is just an overly interfering load of toss that it is worthy of the most worrisome Stalinist five-year plan.