British middle-classes realising food shortages are no longer a 'working class' thing
"Honestly, I just could not believe it," admitted a tweed-clad lady, about to step back in to her Porsche Macan in the car-park. "I invited Geoff, Mary, Susi and Tom for a spot of supper in the new kitchen/diner, and here I am, without even the basics to keep the wolf from the door. I've never seen Waitrose so bereft of provender.
"That green veg aisle is just an embarrassment these days. There was no wakame to be found anywhere. I even asked a young man who worked there and he'd never even heard of it! I improvised very quickly and moved on round the store, but everywhere I looked they had "temporarily unavailable" signs. What on Earth does that mean? There was no pul biber, they were down to the last jar of a very suspect looking za’atar, and the khachapuri had certainly seen better days. It's quite outrageous.
"I don't recall Mr BoJo ever warning us about this. I mean, normally Robert, my husband - dear, lovely, Bobby - gets a little phone-call from someone to warn him about things about to go up in price, or go down in price, or whatever, I can't quite remember. But I do know that Bobby is usually tremendously excited when he gets these little snippets of good fortune. He tells me things have never been better. But, believe me, I will have a word with Bobby when I get home. Why can't he get phone-calls to tell him about when the luganega di Monza are in stock?
"I mean, really, what does he expect Matija to cook with when I'm feeding his friends? The poor woman. I do feel sorry claiming that housing allowance for her and her family. I'm not sure this is quite the 'salaried career opportunity' she thought she'd been promised when they arrived. Anyway, thank God Waiters still had some Krug. Even if there's no food we can still have a jolly nice supper."