Conference food is variable. At snacktimes, doubly so. Sometimes it's just complimentary biscuits and coffee, and other times there's fruit too.
Typically, America is different. They like to give people food, as Tom observed today "to assuage the guilt of the low wages" --- I paraphrase.
A trolley has arrives, containing packets of crisps, and M&Ms, and kit-kats, and skittles, and starbursts for the love of god, and two big ice-and-soda-bottle-filled trays, and tray of cookies and brownies, and now the food lady has gone, I can only think she's gone to get pizza, or a fatted calf. Made of candy.
I, on the other hand, had mutton biryani and smoked brisket inna bun for lunch. Very nice.
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I had no idea there was a Taste of Chicago festival, but coincidentally I spent last weekend 'working' at the equivalent Taste of London in Regent's Park. Two hundred-odd stalls purveying the finest food and drink in our most cosmopolitan metropolis, and not a microwave in sight. (Or on site, for that matter.)
Naturally, I grew dizzy and confused and had to get sunburnt in order to regain my senses. Then I found the Young's and Fuller's stall and everything was suddenly alright.
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