Draw Breath

Flirty Something has an account of a safari to Avoca, the shop that likes to put the ker-ching into 'you paid what for that piece of tat?'

If you're from stateside, Avoca is an overpriced, smug (two common characteristics in the Celtic Tiger) cultural lovechild of Anthropologie and Laura Ashley all housed under one Edward Gibbonsesque roof. It's an SUV in Kensington. It's advanced capitalism in flower-patterned wellies.

As you can tell, I love the place (and what it says about Irish society) with a great passion.

Anyway, I have one question about Flirty's post. How. The. Fuck. Do you 'hand cook' crisps? Are the Chinese political prisoners now forced to hold the crisps into the deep fat fryer during breaks from welly stitching?