You want some tomatoes? Come up here, we’re inundated. We’ve got a tomato mountain. That’s because nobody in the north of England eats salad vegetables, yet the government keeps sending up vast lorry-loads of the stuff to stop us dying of diabetes.
It’s an actual fact that nobody who lives north of Stamford, Lincs, has ever knowingly eaten cucumber. I watch the northerners sometimes in the Tesco at Chester-le-Street, shuffling hurriedly past the vegetable section, eyes averted, nervous lest a pak choi reach out and grab them. There are even tomatoes for sale in our local bakery – they’ve been placed next to the pasties and steak bakes, presumably in the hope that someone will buy one under the misapprehension that they are filled with meat and gravy. But still nobody eats salad veg up here.
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