I’m a man of fairly simple pleasures.  I like my whisky.  I like my Xbox.  I like my iPod.  And every six months, I like to have a Pot Noodle.  A Chicken & Mushroom one.  On a roll.  A buttered roll.

I enjoy my biannual treat … so much so that I’ll buy another one a week or so later, not enjoy it so much, maybe even dislike it, or vomit.  And that’s my appetite for man-made foodstuffs sated for another six months.

So my six monthly Pot Noodle was just about due tonight and I had my roll all ready to accept its noodley goodness and had warned Julie not to come into the living room — for some reason, she finds the idea of eating noodles on a roll repugnant and it kinda makes her want to wash her eyes — and I was all set.

Kettle boiled.  Not too much water … it’s got to be able to stick to teeth otherwise it ain’t right … soy sauce applied at just the right moment … shovelled onto the bap … and it was horrid.

They’ve gone and friggin’ changed Chicken & Mushroom Pot Noodles.  Sure, it tastes like it’s never seen or been within a mile of a Chicken or a Mushroom, but now the sauce tastes like it doesn’t know what MSG is. Or excessive amounts of salt and artificial flavouring. And that’s just wrong.

For shame, Golden Wonder.  You’ve just cost yourself £1.98 of annual turnover.  I hope you feel that pain.  And when you do, then you can come talk to me.

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