Feed Yourself
For the majority, our years at university are not only the first steps to becoming a professional something-or-other, it’s also our first foray into independent living. Moving out of home and into halls or a flat closer to your choice of educational establishment brings with it the realisation that no-one is telling you to go to bed or get up on time. Initially, it’s freedom. Cups of tea, an hours worth of reading and then lights out give way to falling out of clubs at 3am midweek or inviting the last orders types back with you to continue the revelry. But with this comes the inevitable stomach rumble. Hot dinners no longer appear on the kitchen table, no more balanced diet of green food and no more meals created by complicated machinery such as the pressure cooker. By now your mastery of the microwave has produced nothing but a rapid unfulfillment for pot noodle. It was good in the beginning but now your skin has broken out and your fingers have taken to twitching as your sustenance levels crash.

If you are in the fortunate position that your doting parents deposit a lump sum into an account for you to spend at will- I’d assume you’d pay a servant to feed you. But your sort tend to fritter it on the latest shiny item so my advice although aimed to the group of people at risk of developing some Victorian illness like rickets, should be heard by all. It’s time to go shopping. Never fear the most you’ll need is a tenner and maybe the bus fare, because we are headed to Dodge Town.

It is a fact that Lidl stores are only ever built in economically disadvantaged areas, and by that I mean you are never more than a few feet away from a crime. So this exercise is one in staying healthy and remaining alive. The jog from the bus stop and the speed at which you shop around the store will help in this process.

To the discount virgins out there these supermarkets appeared about 8 years ago. As a former employee I know their motto to be “stack high and plentiful”. The format of the shop is basic; crates of items line the aisles. There is no deli section or aromatic scents or Take That’s Shine playing on loop. Instead expect to queue at an unmanned checkout and after coaxing an employee over be sure to secure a net to the till to catch the items as they’re slung through. Sounds dreadful, right?
Wait, before you run off to the safety of a free range, farm grown, fair trade M&S fruit salad, the soviet supermarket has a redeeming feature. Several actually: their products. Yes, there is the typical name brand rip-off like Flakey Corn Cereal but they also offer an inspiring collection of seafood, cheeses, breads, frozen foods, wine and every Thursday a job lot of odd items. Last week it was horse riding helmets. The most important point is that the produce is reasonably priced. Correction, ridiculously priced and this doesn’t reflect the quality of the food. Who knew you could buy a whole lobster for a fiver?

Leaflets are available in store offering cooking tips on how to prepare and serve the more exotic ingredients. So with a meal of unusual food, recipes at hand and in most cases change from a ten pound note what is to stop you? Impress the folks with your larder full of interesting jars from around the globe and after dinner share the tale of your brave battle across unfamiliar terrain aboard a scheme bus to a haven called Lidl.

This article was published in Scotcampus (Nov 09)
www.scotcampus.com/november09