Hospital Food

I recently spent some time in hospital dealing with a stubborn ailment that I'm hopeful is now on its way to being fixed. Exhausted and unable to focus for long periods, I could barely focus on a paragraph of my works in progress.

Slowly, as my energy started to return, I got the itch to write something. Anything. And so I turned to that age old short form missive - the food review.

Normal content will resume soon, but for now, please enjoy a day in the culinary life of my recent healthcare experience.

Breakfast

"Pain Solitaire"

A minimalist composition, somewhere between deconstructed continental and evidence bag. The roll looks haunted. Butter adds most of the flavour. Sadly, the jam tasted more factory than fruit harvest.

Less a meal, more a hostage situation.

5/10

Lunch

"Déchets Sans IA"

The food lady (who was lovely and very accomodating) told me she was bringing me the Scottish staple of mince and tatties. What arrived was a generous ladle of brown uncertainty, a scoop of mashed potato so firm it appeared to have been quarried, and vegetables boiled until they had given up not only texture, but hope.

It tasted like that last burp you get about three hours after eating a raddish.

Important discovery: slop generators are not just for datacentres. Some appear to be installed in hospital kitchens.

2/10

Dinner

"Nouilles avec Curiosité"

This dish was bold fusion concept. The noodles had been reduced to a dry adhesive, the turkey was doing a convincing impression of beef jerky, and the peppers added a delicate note of swamp.

I'm told that potato croquettes aren't normally served with turkey chow mein, but that the kitchen had run out of other vegitables so the croquets gave me one of my 'five a day'.

After lunch’s wet brown offering, I admire the kitchen’s range.

4/10

Bonus Meal

"Mon Dieu, C'est Plein de Petits Pois"

Billed as 'chicken in a mushroom sauce', the plate was approximately 80% peas, piled so high they appeared to be making a territorial claim. Each pea had the grainy interior of a tiny shell filled with wet cement, creating less of a side dish and more of a hostile green landscape.

The chicken had been pulled into tired little strands, clearly exhausted, bless it. The mushroom sauce contained no detectable mushroom, sauce, or opinion, though it did provide a damp textural interlude in the ongoing pea apocalypse.

Finally, four oily croquettes, fried with the confidence of a kitchen that believes breadcrumbs are medicinal. The whole thing tasted faintly of a beach I visited when I was nine. Which, in fairness, probably makes it the best meal I've had here.

6/10

Final Thoughts

I truly believe the hospital were doing the best with what they had. We all know that the NHS has endured years of unprecidented austerity and defunding, and that's had an impact on infrastructure, resources, and morale. Almost everyone that I dealt with on an individual level during my stay was warm, friendly, and trying their hardest.

That said, I wrote these reviews as a humerous way to highlight that, in reality, the healing experience I found in hospital was not holistic. What we eat has a huge impact on our energy levels, and our physical and mental wellbeing. I'm sad that good, passionate people are having to work under such restrictive, underfunded systems that deliver this kind of food to people who are there to get well.

Many thanks and much love to all the people who helped diagnose, treat, and get me home. But, in particular, thanks to the incredible food lady who stayed unfalteringly positive, attentive, and helpful - even when what she had to serve looked... well.