TrueNorthProductions:
Hello,
I’m a researcher for True North Productions based in Leeds, and we’re currently making a second series of A1: Britain’s Longest Road.
I’m hoping to get some advice from truck drivers that frequently use the A1 regarding roadside cafes or food vans that might make a nice feature on our programme. We’re looking for any interesting characters that have a particularly interesting story, maybe they’ve been working on the A1 for several decades, or their food is so good people travel specifically to eat there.
I thought the UK’s truck drivers would be the best place to ask for opinions on this, thanks in advance for the help.
Up and down the length of ‘The Great North Road’ AKA: The Roman Road (A1), you can find many examples of burnt out truck drivers offering ■■■■ o van… not to be confused with that tasty French dish: Coq au vin… no no these ■■■■■ sell mainly bacon butties and dodgy cheap sausages in a defrosted, stale bread bun.
Tea is offered in a polystyrene cup, or instant coffee to remind people of life in the 70s.
In some of the larger lay-bys, refrain from venturing off the tarmac or other hard surfaces… some drivers think the world is their toilet… put your headlights on suddenly at night and these rat infested portals appear to move, yet slovenly as these rats are so large and numerous they fear nothing.
When you awake in the morn, see the converted container or portacabin with the stench of cheap smoky (not smoked) bacon wafting toward - it’s hardly the delight of the discerning client, nor the residence of Britain’s recent determination to prove we no longer all live on crap.
Unfortunately, whilst the middle classes are completely engrossed with what they believe to be a food revolution, spending their days at pretentious foodie markets… nooon seem to know what they now call cuisine, was once known as dinner in the working class homes from where their culinarily lessons originated.
My dear late mum could really cook, she was the best chef I’ve ever known… and when I was a kid… if you wanted to eat in our house - you had to learn how to cook. Survival was instilled by the only true feminist I’ve ever known.
We kept rabbits and we enjoyed the finest rabbit stew & dumplings in the world.
Bacon was cured in the pantry and the smell of fresh bread baked with proper yeast was a daily occurrence… mother would prove her bread in the hearth of the open fire…
If you want to eat dog ****, or stereotype fat truck drivers, then the A1 is the right place to start… just remember this… we’re not all fat & thick.