Service Stations And Your MVP (Most Valuable Pasta)
No one is more surprised than me for being able to write consistently about service stations for half an hour.
Food For Thought.
For anyone who has put in many miles on the road, whether that's on motorways, highways, autobahns or country lanes, I hope you'll join me in taking a few minutes to truly appreciate the wonder that is a service station. Of course there are the practical reasons: toilet breaks, rest stops and that sweet stretch-your-legs-after-three-hours-in-a-20-year-old-Peugeot relief. Perhaps a controversial opinion, but similar to those of you who are fully-fledged members of the Meal High Club (aka lovers of aeroplane food), service station food is, in my opinion, a solid and underrated category of on-the-go eating.
The ingredients of a road trip are varied and subjective. To some it's packing lunch boxes full of homemade sandwiches, sliced fruit and cold water. To me it's the planning of each meal purchased on the road in questionable establishments. Let's just agree a McMuffin™️ tastes better at sunrise as you leave London's dusty lilac skyline, knowing you're on your way to the coast.
The timing of a service station stop is important to note. A journey that takes less than 1.5 hours doesn't technically warrant a food break, unless you are exceptionally hungover or arriving at your destination outside the hours of normal mealtimes. An early start (anything before 8am) strictly requires McDonald's – the prospect of which often prompts me to start road trips early, purely for the joy of biting into hot and crunchy hash browns laced with salt that dances on your tongue; or slurping hot coffee sweetened with sugar (something I never do anywhere else but in a car) to keep my body alert and aware as a five hour journey down to the South West looms in the headlights.
A great joy of road trip is that both hunger seems to expand farther than your stomach usually as room for, and so does your sense of time. If you've been driving since 6am, 11am is a perfectly normal time to stop off for a Deli2Go chicken and bacon Caesar wrap (a personal fave). Or knowing that you won't arrive until after dinner, what choice is there but to order a foot-long turkey club Subway, adding extras like olives, pickles and sweetcorn when common sense would usually tell you not to?
Finally, knowing your service stations is an art in and of itself. It takes practice – multiple trips to the South West, having lived there on-and-off since i was 18, have rewarded me with unmatched knowledge of the M4 and M5's service stations (honestly could tell you each one in order from Membury to Exeter Services). Looking for a Waitrose before Bristol? Leigh Delamare's your guy. I rarely stop before LD, because you have to acquire a certain appetite, and often I think it takes at least 1.5 hours. Once you hit the M5, you're slightly less spoiled for choice – I alway avoid Sedgmoor, rarely visit Taunton Deane but have a soft spot for Bridgewater.
In the same way that – personally – a supermarket sandwich is only as good as the environment and circumstance you eat it in (I'm more likely to be chowing down on one if I'm either hungover, driving, both or at an airport), the service station purchase hinges on the very concept of a journey; less out of convenience, more out of both nostalgia and the promise of new memories.
Bridgwater Services takes me back to scraping my car against a metal pole in the car park and also scoffing down my fifth sandwich of the trip (in less than four hours – yes I was exceptionally hungover) behind our rental car, hoping my boyfriend wouldn't see me (he didn't, but I did confess months later). Cullompton is pointless because by the time you're there, you might as well hit up Exeter Services, which reminds me of the time I left Cornwall at 6am after 2 hours sleep and a night of heavy drinking to attend a wedding, and had to stop off there to be violently sick. Good times.
Don't forget the soundtrack – a key component to sweeten your supermarket sando (M&S ham and coleslaw, or a Waitrose BLT for me) – which in my case usually comprises of seventies funk and soul, nineties hip hop and noughties pop bangers, sung loudly with all windows open at 80MPH. But also this new EP by LAUREL will also be added to the playlist for the next trip.
No one is more surprised than me for being able to write consistently about service stations for half an hour (I could go on), but I hope you can at least relate to a portion of what's been said, and feel free to comment your favourite service stations and accompanying meals.
Here's to the road trip, service station stops and people we share them with,
Cat x
Recipe-not-recipes™️
A riff on ragu this week, this time bringing some SS21 elements. After a terrible day, I invited my friend Coco for an evening of wine and carbs. I opted for a lighter take on a sausage ragu, which was more delightful than I expected. Always a nice feeling.
Extra v oil
4 large pork sausages
White part of a leek, diced
1 shallot, diced
3 garlic cloves, diced or minced
1/2 red chilli, deseeded and diced
2 sprigs of rosemary
1/2 tube of tomato paste
1-2 cups chicken stock
Chopped chives + parsley
Parmesan
Spaghetti
(1) Pour a bit of oil into a heavy-bottomed pan. (2) Start by browning the sausage meat (squeeze it out of the casings) and let it get some colour. (3) Add the rosemary sprigs, chopped leeks, shallots, garlic and chilli and a splash more oil, then cook until the veg is soft. (4) Squeeze in the tomato paste then add the stock. Taste and season. (5) Bring it up to a boil then down to a simmer and keep it on a low heat for about 40 minutes. (6) Check, stir and taste throughout (wine in hand, of course). (7) In the last 15 minutes, add spaghetti to a pan of boiling salted water, cooking for about 10 minutes. (8) Then pouring a ladel of pasta water, add the pasta to the sauce. (9) Stir through with chopped herbs. (10) Serve with mountains of parm, a little extra drizzle of oil and some more fresh herbs.
Leftovers
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