Being a savvy and experimental office worker, I try to vary what I have for lunch as much as humanly possible. By which I mean, I often make a lunch to take with me and then forget it, so I have to improvise when I get there. Fortunately, by way of a gift bag at a posh event, I recently came across a product called ‘Miso Tasty’. It’s basically a cuppa soup for hipsters.
The steps are many and complicated, opening the maker up to ridicule from colleagues in their tiny work kitchen, and perfect for the kind of people who would generally describe themselves as Foodies. Of which I am not one.
To begin with you squeeze the a small tube of paste into the bottom of whatever vessel is being used. For me, that resulted in a stage I chose to call ‘dump in a mug’.
After adding water, you stir for exactly 5 seconds. No more, no less, on pain of a slap on the wrist from the instruction fairy. You then add the sachet of various (non-dodgy) powders and teeny green bits and leave for exactly 1 minute. Instruction fairy again.
After which you can sit down and enjoy your steaming mug of 37 calories, safe in the knowledge that you’ve already burned twice that while making the thing, and looking forward to an afternoon energy slump in all of twelve and half minutes time.
Then comes the drama. I’m not sure who else has read ‘Day of The Triffids’ (Don’t get me wrong, I know loads of people have read ‘Day of The Triffids’, but I just mean I don’t know how many people who are reading this have also read that) but these humongous plants appeared out of nowhere. I was innocently stirring my hipster potion when I noticed giant green things on the spoon. I did not add giant leaves at any point, so where the effing hell did they spring from? At that point I cried ‘witchcraft’, decided I didn’t want to get Triffided at my desk, and dumped the rest down the sink. Of course, the giant and continuously-growing green bits did not go down the sink prompting mental images of myself freeing the world from our plant-y overlords once they truly take hold. I’m ready, folks.
I am a wuss, and I will never be a hipster foodie. Though before shit started unfurling and trying to climb out of the mug and take over humanity (slight exaggeration, but only slight), the soup was quite nice.