As I polish off my bowl of boeuf bourguignon soup (bogwitch will be pleased to note that Housemate and I have defected from Asda to Sainsbury's online shopping, generally to escape the permarain and the inability to bring back more than 4-8 loo rolls at a time on our bikes), it strikes me that foreign cuisine has only really made it in the UK these days once it's been successfully turned into a type of sandwich, crisps and/or soup. Where would we be without the wraps of the world (currently discovering: chipotle'n'chicken), the ubiquitous Thai sweet chilli crisp (and my current favourite thing of Warburton's naan chips) and the supermarkets' competition with Covent Garden and Glorious! soups to make the bestest flavour? I fear we are all taste-hounds who can't be arsed to cook. I blame Rick Stein.