INSTEAD of a food review, can I write about the 12 pints of Guinness I am going to drink?’, I asked the big boss man of the Telegraph features pages as I stumbled out of the office after a particularly tortuous shift last week.
It seemed to me a quite reasonable question, given that to some the Black Stuff is classed as food...and was all I really wanted to think about.
‘Don’t be daft,’ replied our leader so bearing that in mind I decided to go and get the food thing out of the way before the essential act of lubricating my throat.
I didn’t want to stray too far from a pub, so I headed down Blackburn’s Darwen Street and into Miami Fried Chicken for a wrap and fries.
I am partial to a wrap on occasions and Miami do wraps well with plenty of chicken and – perish the thought – salad also stuffed in there and that in itself was enough to satisfy me.
As I have moaned about before, the fries they serve in these places are not to my taste but I managed to get through them and for three and a bit pounds you really can’t complain with your lot.
I did turn down the free tin of pop, however. That really wasn’t at the top of my list – and I headed to the pub with a full stomach.
Job done.
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