10.04am this morning. I was listening to the fashion team discussing what they were going to have for lunch that day. Should they go to Leon? What was on the menu upstairs? No, that soup the other day tasted too much like stock. How many calories are there really in a tortilla? And so it went on.
And so it goes on, in fact, every day. Jane the food editor and I sit in frank and speechless disbelief that anyone can talk about food that much. Even we don’t talk about food that much, and it’s our job. Not that we aren’t pleased of course – the level of enthusiasm displayed for our chosen sphere is encouraging to say the least.
The discussion of last night’s dinner is also given a lot of airtime in the office. ‘I had such a lovely salad last night.’ ‘That aubergine I roasted was delicious.’ ‘I was terrible – I had a ready meal AND a slice of cake.’ ‘Oh don’t worry, Emma, your figure can handle it. Not like me…’
Is this the product of being in an office full of women I wonder? I can’t imagine the boys next door at RBS chattering away about the prawn linguine they knocked up the night before. Is it indicative of how many households have females in the kitchen, or is it just yet another symbol of the complex relationship women have with food? Actually, there’s nothing complex about my relationship with food. I love it, unreservedly. Except for tripe. I love that somewhat less.
I’d be interested to know if every office is like this. Approximately how many minutes of every day are spent in animated discussion of mealtimes? And do the offices of Birds’ Eye and Findus spend their days talking about belts and handbags…