I found myself in between appointments the other day, and I was hungry. Really gut-gurgling hungry. I didn’t want to go searching far and wide for food, so I opted for the foodcourt that was in front of me – not something I do very often. I’m not pretentious about food, but I do like to feed my soul as well as my stomach when I eat, so I tend to go for deliciously fresh options that are prepared specifically for me. However, on this occasion there wasn’t a lot of time so my choice was limited.
As I ordered my ricepaper rolls, I had cause to giggle. Two young burly tradies, with their tanned, hairless legs and Northface puffers on, sidled up next to me and ordered Fiji water and sushi.
Since when did tradies trade the Four’N Twenty pie and the chocolate Big M for imported water and seaweed?? Continue reading