I have had an idea for the most perfect post pub food ever. I call it:
The Cakebab Shop.
We're on a winner already, I'm sure you can tell. But think about it, because it's a winner in so many ways.
What better after half a dozen pints or several bottles of Bacardi Breezer than a nice slice of gateaux? Instead of a kebab, the shop would have a huge black forest gateaux revolving slowly for the shopkeeper to carve slices off, before adding cream. Flans would replace pizzas. For cold nights, what better than a hot slice of apple or cherry pie to warm the cockles of your heart? For blowout types, hot chocolate pudding could be served. For healthy types, fresh fruit salad, all helping to boost your sugar content after a night on the ale. And it's seasonal too. Imagine a slice of Christmas pudding with custard on your way home from the festive office booze up, or strawberries and cream to cap off the piss up following the traditional Henman ejection from Wimbledon... And of course, an ice lolly helps calm your stomach if you're feeling queasy. Summertime Special? Certainly sir!
You could have Cakebab shops catering (!) for all tastes and nationalities. I can see Sara Lee opening franchises, up against small, local apfelkuchen stalls outside nightclubs and street corner vans selling sponge pudding and custard to chilly revellers across the nation. Cakebab shops could even deliver. How many times have you fancied something sweet at midnight and can't be arsed driving to Tesco? I know I have.
On now to the more unsavoury aspects of late night post pub food, where the Cakebab again scores highly. After all, a fight is less likely to happen if the protagonists are full of jam roly poly and custard. There'd be less fighting, with everyone feeling good and buzzed up and full of sugar. And if someone is nasty enough to throw food, a slice of battenburg to the head is more welcome than a handful of greasy, shredded meat. At least it would still smell good in the morning. (You might even be tempted to pick it out and eat it). And horror of horrors, should you be unfortunate enough to be ill, bringing up sweet stuff has to be less unsavoury (!) than throwing up half a curry.
I haven't done a search, or indeed any research whatsoever, but I'm willing to bet no-one has thought of this before. So if you're a budding young entrepreneur looking to rake in the cash, give me a call. Lets face it, we all regress when we drink, and we all like eating the sweet things when we're kids. It's 2:30 a.m. and you're half cut, you're going to pay what it takes to get that cake your mum wouldn't let you eat when you were little, because "you'd had enough." Where's mummy now, eh? Nowhere, pal. You're a grown man on the piss and if you want that cake you walk in that shop and damn well order a slice. In fact, order two. What the hell, make it the whole cake. Yay! Mummy can't stop you now!
A venture like this might seem like novelty, but all it needs is to get the British drinking public hooked on sweets. How hard can that be? Let's face it, they already are most of them, it just needs a little attitude adjustment to get them used to ordering a blueberry pie instead of a steak and kidney pie after eight pints of lager. Look how quickly we've adopted curries and pizza alongside the more traditional fayre such as chips and gravy. We're a nation of desperate, sad consumers and we'll bite anything that's thrown at us, especially with a few pints sloshing around inside.
I tell you, it sounds like a licence to print money to me.