You will have seen the advert on TV. The scene: a fancy restaurant dining room where a panicked young man scans a menu full of baffling words – melange, deconstructed, micro agretti – while all the time being scrutinised by his girlfriend’s hard-to-impress parents and a comically imperious waiter. Rescued by a surreptitious web search on his phone, he now knows what gravlax is and can order with confidence. Embarrassment is swerved, lunch is saved.
We’ve all been there. Hands up, who knew what agretti is? No? Had the samphire-like marsh grass appeared as monk’s beard, the name chefs prefer, would that have helped? Thought not.
