A night isn’t complete without chips, cheese and curry sauce
The food of drunken dreams
You’ve just left the club, your feet are aching, and you’re very aware, as the cold outside hits you, that your last shot was a mistake. You need carbs and you need them quickly.
You salvage the coins from your pocket and head off in pursuit of something to satisfy your Sambuca induced hunger. A pizza is great but far too obvious and dare we say it, boring after a while. A kebab always seems like a good idea until you find the solid remains on your bedroom floor the next day. The queue in McDonald’s is not an idea worth entertaining after 2am.
The answer to your pangs is obvious, my friends, cheesy chips with a decadent side of curry sauce.
It shouldn’t be nice but it tastes so good
There’s something wrong about the whole thing. The flavours shouldn’t work and we all know it. Cheese and chips? Post night out staple. Sure, you can deal with that. The concept of a marriage between the world’s stodgiest carb, gloopy cheese, and questionable curry sauce is not an obvious one. However, don’t knock it until you try it.
Each component individually is beautiful so, why wouldn’t they mesh in an oily melange of fragrant drunken soul soothing splendour?
It looks a bit like baby sick, but you love it
The colour is disgusting. The texture is disgusting. The smell is only fractionally better. Nothing aesthetic about this dish is pleasing until you experience the glorious moment of thrusting a forkful of cheese laden chips, dripping in curry goodness, into your mouth.
It’s a sensory sensation and you can’t even deny it. You want to hate it and you know it’s grim but you just keep shovelling it in, feeling sinful, accepting the cholesterol, and yet, loving every mouthful.
It’s the kind of thing you can only eat drunk
Imagine going into a restaurant and ordering cheesy chips with curry sauce whilst in a sober state. Society frowns upon such combinations when your blood type isn’t VK+ regret.
In turn, this drunk dish, ordered up and down the country as the nation’s finest spill out of sticky clubs, symbolises the nights of debauchery that you can never regret. Eating it is a right of passage for any seasoned clubber worth their salt.
There’s an art to eating it and it takes time
Cheese, chips and curry sauce cannot be rushed – you have to exercise self restraint. You cannot and must not eat them straight away if you want the optimum experience.
It is an art founded on perfectly timed consumption. Carry them home with the top on the container shut, and wait lovingly for the bad boy cheese to melt. 10 to 15 minutes is long enough to achieve this. Life is but a dream.
If you can’t remember eating it, it didn’t happen
You wake up and your mouth feels like someone’s given your insides a rub down with some sandpaper. You roll over to check you’ve got your phone and ID. You’re safe until you realise, abandoned next to your clutch/wallet is a dish filled with disaster. A polystyrene shell of regret. You look down and your t-shirt is covered in stains you know no amount of Vanish oxi-action will solve. Your stomach is swollen and you promise yourself that you’ll never to do it to your body again. You need a week’s worth of Actimel and a detox.
Yet, deep down, you know you will cave again one day and order it because your inner nostalgic student will always crave the sweet taste. These three humble ingredients combined are elevated to hero status. It is the taste of the best night of your life.
With thanks to Issy Williams and James Dobrzanski for their cheesy contributions.