“Oh my god Lana, are you seriously buying that?”
“I like trying new things,” you say defensively, clutching the vacuum-packed brick of some unknown knobbly white substance.
“Do you even know what it is?”
“The whole point is that I don’t know what it is.”
A quick google tells you that Canjica is de-germed grains of white maize, typically cooked into a sweet porridge. You follow the instructions and end up with something that looks like giant rice pudding.
A previous foray into the Indian supermarket had resulted in you buying a packet of undrinkable tea and a bag of tapioca pearls with which you made what is probably the world’s worst desert.
As you spoon the cooked Canjica into a bowl, you experience unsettling flashbacks to the paste-like tapioca pudding.
But it tastes okay. It is a bit starchy, and a bit bland, but if you eat it with a lot of cinnamon and swallow very quickly, it is almost pleasant.
Impulse purchases from world supermarkets in Central London have introduced you to delights such as sesame seed salad dressing, horchata (rice milkshake), makowiec (sweet poppy seed bread), lazanki (pork and cabbage pasta) and halwa (a grainy, crumbly sweet).
Boo to you, Nigel Farage.