A Cold Boiled Egg Pot May Be A Convenient Shot Of Protein, But Where’s The Joy In That? | Lucy Dearlove

Somewhere between protein powders and chicken breasts in plastic containers, I fear the pursuit of wellness has become a thief of joy

Last year, I needed to eat on the go between exercising and an evening class. Frequently, I would find myself striding up a hill in the dark eating cold boiled eggs from a plastic pot. The eggs had been cooked into submission, with a grey ring around the chalky yolk that plastered itself across my tongue and teeth. The whites were rubbery, and the bottom of the pot held a little pool of mysterious cloudy water that made me shudder.

So why choose to eat the cursed eggs? I’m clearly not alone: Tesco recently revealed that boiled egg pots have ousted crisps from the top spot in its meal-deal league table (other retailers have reported equivalent growth in the snack’s popularity). It’s possible to read the “egg protein pot” as evidence of a joyless nation – a variation on the “joyless tubes”, the term the English writer Douglas Adams gave to sausages, bolstering his theory of a nation reluctant to eat anything pleasurable lest it felt like a sin.

Lucy Dearlove is a writer and the host of the food podcast Lecker