I confessed recently that I (almost) prefer Eastenders to Coronation Street.
Now whilst some may view this as an act of shedding my Northern roots, I indefatigably disagree. I find the plots slightly more area apt now I'm a local.
This revelation has acumen.
I may prefer the Southern soap, but there's a Northern trait I cannot (& will not) shake. A brew. That gloriously emotionally charged, heart warming, honest beverage.
I dislike coffee excessively *
Saturday morning saw my heartbeat quicken, my forehead bear a bead of sweat. I'd run out of teabags.
I dislike herbal tea even more **, what's a girl to do.
Forreging around I struck gold. A chum had bought me a mug. A Moonpig mug.
Low and behold, what did it contain. A bloody brew enabler.
I silently placed my bets on the strength of the liquid it'd stir up. If a Tetleys was a 7 & a PG Tip an 8.5 I estimated Moonpig would be a 2.75.
I overestimated. It was a 2.
Still, my morning quota was par-filled & I could function.
Whilst I do not feel they should go into mass production, the bag certainly helped me out when my chips were down.
The 'Caf' can stick its lattes & cappuccinos. I'd choose 'Roys Rolls' - morning, noon & night.
* Bar coffee flavoured Roses, which seem to have been discontinued.
** all forms. BLEUGH.