Living in a shared house has its ups and downs. On the plus side, I have a readymade family of friends, it’s cheap, we have a cleaner, and sometimes my housemate Duck cooks us all fajitas.
On the down side, I keep unearthing hidden “treasures” from the fridge and cupboards. While having a clear-out before Christmas I found this packet of hot-dog buns – unwanted BBQ fodder left over from the summer:
Upon opening the packet the buns appeared to be in perfectly good condition in terms of texture, smell and general appearance. But despite my scientific leanings, I confess I didn’t try eating one in the quest for a full assessment of their properties.
Although it’s nowhere close to hitting the 30-year vintage of the world’s oldest Twinkie, I am staggered by the longevity of these humble buns. What on earth do they put in them? Formaldehyde?
Or is our bread-bin the modern equivalent of a pyramid?