Obviously, roast dinners are the most glorious British tradition. But they are facing a new, and grave, crisis.
Roast meat is incredible, be it beef, or lamb, or chicken, or anything else.
Roast potatoes might be the finest things ever created, the most perfect distillation of everything good.
And obviously, obviously Yorkshire puddings are spectacular. Fucking spectacular.
It's all tied together with gravy, real, magnificent gravy.
But there is a problem.
Look at it closer. Do you see the obvious fucking problem with this?
It's the worst, and it's ruining this roast dinner.
LOOK AT THE FUCKING PEAS.
This is a great roast, just waiting for gravy. Because there are no peas.
This, on the other hand, is a bullshit roast. A bland facsimile, knocked off without care or love or emotion.
And it's so sad, because there are so many options before you have to resort to peas. There's cauliflower cheese, for fuck's sake.
Honey roasted carrots?
Roast parsnips? Green beans? You can literally have any vegetable on a roast and it works so goddamn well.
Well, except tomato. If you put tomato on a roast dinner you're clearly a serial killer.
Look at this monument to excellence, sculpted from the an array of vegetables straight from the heart of the land, and absent of peas.
What tragedy in someone's life inspired this lack of imagination?
What failure of wit, and creativity, and goodness, and hope made this happen?
You shouldn't have to finish a roast with a sad collection of little green dingleberrys on the side of your plate.
Roasts are magnificent. Peas are ruining them.
