Tinned Pears.

My, how I love tinned fruit. It’s cheap, full of juice, good for the body, and hardy enough to survive a nuclear apocalypse. What’s more, once you’ve broken through that aluminium lid, all the hard work has already been done – just whip out a spoon and delve in. Mmm.

My boyfriend and I used to work through tinned peaches as if our lives depended on it. The Tinned Peach is surely a God among fruit – even better than the fresh type, in my book – and these wondrous orbs staved off many a post-work slump.

Alas, however, this tale does not end happily. As tends to happen far too often these days, our habit was quashed by the Baron of Sainsbury, who removed the affordable version from our local store. Sadist! Monster! BRUTE! After weeks of mourning – and numerous trips to the shelves that were once Peach Haven – we were forced to face facts: our ambrosial pals were gone. The options were tinned pear or nothing, and, in desperation, we opted for the former.

I had some of this humble peach substitute last night. Yes, it was sweet. Yes, it was juicy. Yes, on the whole, I enjoyed myself. But the texture and taste made me sigh for its superior.

I don’t want pears. I want peaches. Mr Sainsbury: listen here. It’s not your place to obstuct the divine. Reinstate Basics Tinned Peaches and give this peasant something to smile about.


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