in the midst of one of those two-hour, long-distant calls to nellicent the other night, i asked, “um, where is your sainbury’s?”. i thought that i’d made it seem an innocent question, apropos of nothing, though my index finger was making random loop-de-loops on the magazine page.

she gave it serious thought. “oh. it’s in [name of suburb], on [name of street] and –,” she paused, before the shrieking began. “i know what you want!!”

“argh!” i shrieked back, “i want it! i want it!”

“i know what you want! i have already bought it for you, in my head!”

“well,” i said, “i hope that you are not talking about cheese.”

because i surely wasn’t. a week ago, i’d read a story on anya hindmarch, in “vogue“, that mentioned a shopping bag she’d designed for sainsbury’s in the UK, in one of those everybody-wins exercises to reduce plastic bag consumption. and what a bag. before it’s even gone on sale at the supermarkets, it’s already sold out its online pre-sale allotments, and gone on to appear on ebay at forty times its original cost.

we went on to discuss the logistics of obtaining one (or two!) of these bags — which sainsbury’s branches might sell them, and if she might have to rope in one of her friends in case there was a one-per-customer limit (there is!) — and now that i’ve read a bit more about the madness, it all seems just a bit too stella-at-target.
so perhaps i won’t be getting one after all.

but what better time to spruik the raging yoghurt shopping bag? ok, so it’s not designed by anya hindmarch, is not a limited edition, will cost you more than £5, and will make me a couple of bucks too… but you can hang it over your shoulder and carry all manner of groceries in it, just like the sainsbury’s one. anyway, don’t you just need another canvas shopping bag? i myself have a selection of eight or ten hanging from my laundry door.

and while we’re on the hindmarch comparisons, look what i made saturday morning: chocolate-covered pretzels.

after breakfast (sour cherry jam on buttered rye and caraway bagel, yum) i melted down a 100g bar of lindt dark chocolate in a large bowl over a pot of simmering water. i tipped in a bag of salted pretzels, and stirred until everyone was well-coated. i fished them out with a bamboo skewer and laid them out to set on a sheet of grease-proof paper. it’s an effortless and addictive snack, i tell you, with the bittersweet chocolate (just a thin enough coat to start melting in the warmth of your fingertips), and the sharp crunch of the pretzel, and the lingering surprise of a random salt chip.