simple pleasures should not be underestimated

Yesterday I had lunch at one of those places which is more concerned with their atmosphere than with the provision of food.

You know the places: where the menu contains such exotic items as fillet of atlantic salmon, the fish in question having been nurtured in dark and lightless caverns tucked under the antarctic ice shelf for several years, before being slaughtered and the meat wrapped around a lemon and shot into space and thus lightly seared upon re-entry, and then served upon a bed of, god,