Muristek
There was a time when the food at football stadiums was so bad even seagulls turned up their noses at it. Not any more
By Pete Brooksbank for When Saturday Comes
There was a time not too long ago when anyone hoping for a warm meal on the terraces of a lower-league football match would face a stark choice: Pot Noodle, or hunger. While many understandably chose the latter, you would still see innumerable tubs of freeze-dried slop perched precariously on crush barriers, one wayward shot away from discharging their rehydrated gruel over unlucky bystanders. They were often served from little wooden sheds for an astronomical mark-up by faintly furious volunteers who would give you nothing more than an indignant frown if you dared asked for chips.
Things have come a long way since then. Technology has shrunk the size – and price – of once-exotic catering equipment and British culinary tastes were forever broadened by the explosion of affordable casual dining on the high street in the 1990s. A whole new generation of amateur and not-so-amateur chefs have forged a truly global street food scene. From farmers’ markets to music festivals, the choice now offered is bewildering. But there’s always been a market the scene has struggled to break into: football.
Continue reading...