Can you find me a Christmassy restaurant?” says the editor. Hmm. Tricky. Christmas isn’t really about restaurants. It’s about putting the roast potatoes in the oven and pretending you can’t hear the in-laws questioning your crisping technique. If you’re in a restaurant at Christmas something has gone wrong.

Something has gone wrong. December 2013, or thereabouts. Birmingham New Street station. The trains are late again — of course they are. Or maybe they don’t exist. I can’t remember. I’m miserable, for reasons I can’t entirely remember either, but were probably largely related to the general horror that is being a teenager. I can’t get home to my mum’s. Insult to injury: I’m in Pret A Manger.

Still, the light shineth in the darkness. So begins one of the great enduring love stories of my life. Roasted carrots, rocket, pecan nuts, crispy onion bits. The vegetarian Pret Christmas sandwich. In my memory there were chestnuts, but I’m not sure I trust that. What I do recall is that the sandwich was perfect. It tasted like the Christmas I was at risk of missing due to the enduring and inevitable incompetence of Network Rail.

Now it’s 2023. The trains are still a mess. Some things never change. The Pret Christmas sandwich has. I picked one up for lunch today, squirrelled it back to my desk. Squash instead of carrots. No doubt some highly paid suit, in a glass-fronted office somewhere, held several focus groups about this, at great expense. I like to imagine him, Mad Men-style, bellowing at an assistant: “Carrots are over, goddamit. Get me squash!” That or I’m misremembering the carrots too. If there were chestnuts, they are gone as well. It’s not what it was. The rocket is a bit wilted. Isn’t it always, in these preprepared sandwiches? The bread is wilted too. God, when did I get so snobby? I’m sure I didn’t used to care about this type of thing.

Undeterred, I go back the next day. A friend has described the Pret Christmas range as “Frankensteinian”. Maybe I’ve not been adventurous enough. Bingo. Ham Hock & Festive Sprouts Macaroni Cheese. “New”, the package boasts. “I’ve made it through the auditions.” That must be the focus groups. It’s lukewarm. The crispy top isn’t crispy. It’s weirdly sweet. Weirdly … weird. I mean, I say “weirdly” but they’ve put sprouts in macaroni cheese. I can’t say I didn’t see this coming.

Sunday Times. To read the full piece, click here