Boots hoisin duck wrap
Ever wondered what two clogs filled with horse meat taste like? If you enjoy chewing, and the strange combination of spring onions and jam, you’ll love this quite frankly haunting sandwich, which will repeat on you until July. As you might have guessed, it really doesn’t go with Wotsits.
Tesco quinoa salad
This carton of gravel and joylessness will make you wonder whether there’s any point in carrying on. Not helped at all by a mountain of industrial grated carrot and a dressing that tastes of phlegm. Almost definitely made in a factory by a bloke who doesn’t know what quinoa is, and has probably just eaten one of his own bogeys.
Pret Ham and Greve baguette
Ok, now we’re talking. This sandwich is the very definition of a safe pair of hands. A big effin jeffin log of refined carbohydrate, stuffed with ham, salty rubbery cheese and a mustardy mayo. This sandwich can be relied upon. You can leave it in charge of the office, you can lean on it when you’re tired, you can take it to meet your mother.
Tesco cheese savoury
In her recent racist Twitter rant, Azealia Banks derided the British for having bad teeth and getting fat from eating boxed Tesco sandwiches. The cheese savoury is probably what she was referring to, and it’s delicious, in a low rent kind of way. (Buy gum afterwards, unless you want less friends than Azealia).
M&S prawn mayonnaise
Come on, let’s not pretend we care about lettuce. Tomatoes do not thrill us. Leaves are superfluous. Cucumber can get tae fuck. What we really want is a slurry of vacuum packed prawns, engulfed in lardy glue, encased in some over-refrigerated bread. Preferably a pack of three, wolfed down in a car park, while listening to Capital FM and dimly wondering whether there’s something better than this.
Greggs Mexican chicken oval bite
The Mexican Oval Bite is to Mexico what Rene from ‘Allo ‘Allo was to France. The chicken has had the merest flirtation with some paprika, before being shovelled into a bun and served by a disgruntled woman called Linda in a blue hairnet. It’s big, though, so that’s good.
Caffe Nero sandwiches
The woman at my local Caffe Nero is an absolute cow, to the point that I actually want to befriend her just for the challenge of getting her to smile. I would take her to see an amusing play, make her inhale helium, tickle her ribs and read her extracts from Spike Milligan. What I wouldn’t do is buy one of her sandwiches, because I bet she spits in them.
I do admire the way that Asda have taken this ancient Japanese culinary icon and put tuna mayonnaise and cream cheese in it, so that each dry, leaden mouthful reminds you not of the cherry blossoms of Osaka, but of Big Buns sandwich shop in Stockport.
Costa tuna melt
If you’ve got £7.50 to spunk on a sandwich which tastes like fish carpet covered in bechamel sauce, then be my guest.
Now read this guide to bossing the reduced section at supermarkets.