Lunch, let’s talk about it. Not Sunday lunch, or a picnic in the park, or in the local Chinese, but lunch in its drabbest incarnation: at work.
Lunch at work — distinctly different from the working lunch, at which wine must be encouraged — is the dullest kind of meal. It is usually taken at a desk, or in a staff room, or in one of joyless high street Pret-a-likes. Colleagues may be in attendance, albeit not often voluntarily. Such lunches position food in its saddest, simplest form: as fuel.
This is why meal deals exist: a sandwich, fruit in plastic, a drink. There is only so much fun to be had with it — and the mundane becomes exotic very quickly (overheard in Tesco: “Mountain Dew? Bro, are you mad?!”).
Or that’s how it was. Enter Sainsbury’s. On the grounds of offering customers more choice, the supermarket is now offering a can of Lucky Saint or a bottle of Corona Cero in its £5 meal deal. Debrett’s, the snobbery handbook, has already expressed its disapproval, telling the Times that having a booze-free beer “makes you look like someone who really wants a drink.” In other words, crack out the Lucky Saint and the worry is your colleagues will think you’re an alky.
Those having a bottle of zero must be after the taste, given there’s no buzz to chase. Few develop a drink problem on the grounds of flavour. “It was just too delicious” is a sentence rarely heard from those falling off a bar stool
I couldn’t give two figs about Debrett’s, so it is with significant displeasure that I admit my initial reaction was much the same. A decent zero beer is a joy in those moments where a drink feels the thing to have, but its impacts aren’t wanted. A Saturday afternoon of sport, a Monday night at home, in the pub midweek. But at your desk? In the office? For lunch? That looks like you’re…
…like nothing, really. It’s hardly as if it’s the unhealthy choice: non-alcoholic beers are for the most part better for you than the average soft drink. Nor does it really suggest anything sinister. Those having a bottle of zero must be after the taste, given there’s no buzz to chase. Few develop a drink problem on the grounds of flavour. “It was just too delicious” is a sentence rarely heard from those falling off a bar stool. Though, if someone is having one in an attempt to satisfy a craving, it’s better than sneaking off to the pub, or putting Cardi B’s boozy whipped cream on everything.
So if your colleagues think a booze-free beer indicates a drink problem, either it’s time to change your actual boozing habits, or change your colleagues. And if you’re worried about how it looks yourself, it might be time to go to the mirror with some difficult questions.
As it goes, I can think of some perfect meal deal days for a zero beer. On one of those clean blue summer Tuesdays, when the boss is away and everyone decamps to the park. A proper beer? Heaven, but perhaps unprofessional. Or maybe it’s any old Friday, inching along, the pub hours away. It’s a moment to pretend you’re on your first, without risking getting fired. And, in certain professions, a way to have a drink without putting anyone else in danger.
Sainsbury’s are probably on a hiding to nothing. Are there really that many consumers clamouring for alcohol-free beer at lunch? It’s hard to believe. On the other hand, perhaps the supermarket is looking to put a little crack in the greyness of a work lunch. Maybe it needn’t be so drab, after all.
