Andrew Papanikitas is deputy editor of the BJGP, and a GP in Oxford. He is on Twitter: @gentlemedic
The ‘deluxe’ breakfast came with half a mushroom, and this was unexpectedly upsetting. The menu had boasted ‘a portobello mushroom’ and the absent half felt fraudulent, stolen even. It was not a particularly large half mushroom. Perhaps inspired by Tolkien’s hobbits in Lord of the Rings, perhaps by fond memories of my grandmother’s cooking, the mushroom was (for me) one of the highlights of a full English Breakfast in all its 21st century diversely ecumenical glory – this would be the case were I omnivorous, vegetarian or vegan. Perhaps not with fish…
The deluxe breakfast came with half a mushroom, and this was unexpectedly upsetting.
The mutilated fungus stared back at me from the side of the square earthenware plate, artfully garnished with parsley and butter. I caught myself wondering whether I would have been as upset with the same amount of sliced mushroom. Possibly not – why not? The whole half (don’t laugh!) implied an absence more to me than the multiple fractions. I might’ve been as upset to receive half a novel as several instalments of serialised but incomplete book.
The inner voice said, ‘Let it go…’ And then the waiter asked me how my breakfast was, no doubt expecting a quintessential British response of ‘fine thanks.’ And I unloaded my thoughts onto him as a builder’s lorry unloads rubble from demolition. Panicked eyes betrayed his stiffening smile – despite all my attempts to sound civil my state of affront had triggered a defensive posture. He retreated to the back of the restaurant and the manager faded into the foreground, breathlessly assuring that that this was restaurant policy and if I wished for the other half of the mushroom, then a reunion could be arranged at no extra charge.
Triumphant, I attacked my now complete deluxe breakfast, and with dismay, realised that to finish it would prove a moral victory but a dissatisfying meal. There was too much food on my plate.
***
You are probably wondering what half a mushroom has to do with general practice? This half-mushroom emerged in an RCGP annual conference, when Euan Lawson (Editor) challenged the room to spend ten minutes writing about something that had affected us in some way. The session was to discuss the various aspects of writing for BJGP/BJGPLife. Whilst the mushroom incident could be dismissed as a ‘first world problem’ I wonder if there is a useful moral to be found tucked between the sausage and the baked beans, perhaps something to do with perception and expectation, resource allocation and justice. If you take nothing else from this culinary parable, when you next see an invitation to attend Euan or the BJGP team discussing writing for the Journal, do join us!
Featured photo by Eiliv Aceron on Unsplash
