Finger Food

I file finger food firmly in the ‘small and sophisticated’ bracket in my mind. In reality, it’s more like shoving carrot sticks and hummus in my face on a train from work event to work event, squished between the thighs of my fellow commuters who are glancing disdainfully at my noisy, smelly snack. Or Greek stuffed vine leaves, dripping all over my desk and keyboard, or an entire packet of Oreos eaten under the bedcovers and regretted for days afterwards as the crumbs prickle me in my sleep. But every louche restaurant these days seems to have an array of tiny morsels, designed to be shared with dining companions at the start or end of the meal. Mini desserts, sharing platters, amuse-bouches, palate cleansers; usually exorbitantly expensive and disappearing in the matter of a moment.