Oh, perfect. Oh, typical.

On Tuesday, the Guardian had all these recipes for students. The new term is starting in a few days, so there has been loads of stuff in the papers about How To Survive Student Life and Oh What You're All So Fucked Your Student Loan Is Going To Destroy Your Life, and things about how to eat and that, and how binge drinking is the cancer that is killing Britain* and everything.
All of which is very boring and what you would expect. The only good thing that has come out of this are the nice recipes in the Guardian, you would think. Well, you would be wrong, pal. Here are some of the best letters in the paper this morning about it.

They start off very irritating but sort of all right, really:

"The cardinal rule for student recipes must surely be that the meals are cheap to make."

"The article makes bizarre assumptions about students' budgets."

OH BUT LOOK AT THIS ONE:

"What class of student would arise to a breakfast of salmon bagels, followed by sprout and apple slaw with lemon dressing for luncheon? Perhaps the author had recently read Brideshead Revisited."

OH CHRIST SHUT UP SHUT UP JUST BE QUIET, "PAUL" FROM SUFFOLK.

Okay and now here is the best one ever. This one has everything. The terrible and smug and overblown sarcasm, especially. Look, look:

"Your Student Cookbook caused me alarm as I realised the inadequacy ofthe box of groceries given to my son as we packed him off to university last week. For sure, he would be fine for broad beans, extra virgin olive oill and puy lentils but I simply couldn't remember about the provision of thyme sprigs, goat's cheese, or galangal paste. I tried several times to phone him during the day to alert him about this, but was unable to get a response until about 3pm. Like many of his Guardian-reading friends, the poor boy had become exhausted in his attempt to source ingredients. You have a lot to answer for."

you see. you see. It's my real worst. Stop being so proud of what a smug drip you are, Roger.

*See also: Broken Britain