A weekend eating Poundland food

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10 April 2012

Poundland was, until this weekend, a foreign country — and not one I had ever yearned to visit. But it seems I am in the minority among London's savvy shoppers because figures released last week reveal that the middle classes have been turning to the retailer — where everything really does cost a pound or less — in such large numbers that it is now expanding at the rate of one new store a week, and its profits are up a whopping 81.5 per cent.

Your host may not admit it (although when I told friends I was going to live off Poundland for an entire weekend, many owned up to shopping there regularly), but dinner party tables from Belsize Park to Battersea are groaning under the weight of Poundland products.

And the apparent turnaround in our shopping habits could not have come at a better time, as the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs announced recently that food prices in the UK went up by 8.1 per cent in the past three years — twice the average increase across Europe.

A consequence of the hike in prices and the recession is that the middle classes can no longer afford to be so complacent about what they buy and where. Much as our parents and grandparents used to, Londoners are returning to the notion of shopping around. Rather than putting all our goods in one supermarket basket, the smart way to shop in London now is to buy different things from different stores. And this is where Poundland comes into its own.

Living solely off Poundland products, as I found, is difficult, but setting foot in one of their stores for the first time I couldn't understand why it had taken me so long to discover it. I walked around the Kings Mall shop in Hammersmith and winced as I made a mental calculation of how much the equivalent cleaning and cooking products, toiletries and children's stationery cost in Waitrose, my supermarket of choice.

Macleans Whitening Toothpaste for a pound? It's £2.09 in Waitrose. Beechams decongestant with added paracetamol, for £1? It's a princely £2.49 at Waitrose. There were surprises around every corner as I uncovered brand after brand that features in "Deborah's shop" on my Ocado page. The list was endless: Marmite, Sunpat peanut butter, Quaker Oats, Heinz baked beans, Tilda basmati rice, HP sauce, Duracell batteries, Simple Shower Gel — Poundland even stocks Organix toddler snacks and Plum Baby, for goodness sake.

But when it came to my challenge of eating nothing but Poundland food for a weekend I did struggle. Apart from milk (two litres for a pound) and eggs (nine for a pound), Poundland doesn't stock any fresh produce — not even bread.

Undeterred, I ploughed on and discovered that I could, if I overcame my aversion to ready-meals, make it through the weekend, albeit probably weighing several pounds more by Monday. So into the basket went the Fray Bentos steak and kidney pie, the Sutherlands chicken curry and sweet-and-sour sauce.

I was heartened to find olive oil, tinned tomatoes, spaghetti, sea salt and peppercorns. And of course aisle after aisle of sweets and chocolates — my daughter, Dory, was going to be in heaven. Shame then for her that her father, Adam, and I had exempted her from the trial on health grounds (if she saw the pink label Heinz Barbie pasta in tomato sauce she would never eat broccoli or quinoa again).

Adam also excused himself from the challenge — although he readily took the razor blades, the Dairy Milk and the Marmite from my bulging carrier bags when I struggled in on Friday evening (you can tell this middle-class onslaught has taken Poundland by surprise: it doesn't have trolleys, wide aisles or easy access to a car park to accommodate the weekly shopper).

I bought what I would normally buy in Waitrose (except for the ready-meals and fresh produce) and I was the only person dragging two overflowing wheely baskets behind me.

But the challenge of what to cook, without being able to use fresh vegetables, fruit, meat, fish or bread was all too apparent when I started planning my menus. I thought I would get the most painful part of the ordeal over sooner rather than later and plumped for the tinned chicken curry and rice on Friday evening as Dory and Adam tucked into pea and mint-filled ravioli with home-made pesto and a tomato and green bean salad.

As I had feared, the curry was actually extremely tasty — but I couldn't enjoy it because I felt so guilty about all the salt, sugar and preservatives I was eating.

A simple breakfast of Quaker Oats and Poundland semi-skimmed milk and a cup of Maxwell House instant coffee made me feel slightly more virtuous, but I had a sinking feeling as I remembered that the photographer was arriving at midday to picture me preparing lunch for Dory and some friends.

Taking the advice of a colleague, I downloaded an app that allows you to input the ingredients you have in return for a tasty recipe. I typed in the words salmon, spaghetti, tomatoes and peas — omitting to add "canned" before each one — and up popped a picture of a delicious-looking Mediterranean dish of salmon fillet, fresh leaf spinach and thinly sliced plum tomatoes on a bed of spaghetti. Full of purpose, I strode into the kitchen and then instantly lost heart as I emptied the tins out onto the table. "Is that it?" barked the photographer. "That won't make a great picture."

"It won't make a great meal either," I replied. And so it didn't. Even Dory, who loves spaghetti, couldn't be persuaded to finish her bowl. My friend looked on pityingly and retrieved a bag of Borough Market cheese, fresh walnut bread and a Viennese sachertorte from her shopping bag and they all tucked in while I nursed an After Eight.

By Saturday evening I was ravenous and craving salad and fruit. Instead I attempted my most adventurous meal yet — stir-fried smoked sausage. In the olive oil, I sautéed the sliced smoked sausage and stirred in tinned carrots and sweetcorn, before adding a WeightWatchers sweet and sour sauce and more microwaved basmati rice — this time with mushrooms. I love cooking and found opening tins and putting packets into the microwave deeply unfulfilling and oddly depressing.

My stir-fry was sweet and filling in a glutinous kind of way that made my teeth feel rather squeaky. None of the ingredients actually worked together — the smoked sausage being the most incongruous element.

Sunday morning and yet more porridge (the Hammersmith Poundland had sold out of Weetabix, the only other cereal from their selection that I would consider eating). I was spared the ordeal of coming up with a Poundland Sunday lunch as we had a (long-standing) invitation to a friend's house in Richmond. Rosemary-roasted lamb and new potatoes, broccoli, peas, cauliflower and glazed carrots made me realise what I'd been missing and made the prospect of supper — the dreaded Fray Bentos steak and kidney pie — seem all the more unappealing. In fact, the pie didn't taste as unappetising as it looked, although I could only manage a few mouthfuls before I followed a friend's advice and knocked up Nigella's Marmite pasta — far and away the nicest Poundland dish I had produced all weekend.

Despite the Tube strike and the freezing weather, I skipped out of bed on Monday morning at the prospect of freshly ground coffee and granola with winter berries.

But organic fruit and veg isn't the point of Poundland. The point is £13.11, which is the amount I saved by shopping at Poundland rather than Waitrose. As Poundland's chief executive Jim McCarthy puts it: "At one time we were considered downmarket. But there is no shame in saving money any more."

He's right. Mum's been to Poundland — and she's jolly well going back there too.

Quids in — best buys for a pound
(equivalent price from Ocado)
Lemsip Max cold and flu, five sachets (£4.28 for 10 sachets)
Colgate toothbrushes three-pack (similar three-pack £2.50)
Simple body wash (£1.98)
10-pack Mini-Cheddars (£2.49 for 12)
Marmite 125g (£1.54)
Discover Mexican garlic and coriander tortillas (£1.59)
Maltesers 120g (£1.46)
Plum Baby organic superfood, two pots (£1.59)
Mr Muscle multi-task kitchen cleaner (£2.05)
Harpic Duraguard limescale remover (£1.70)
Kleenex anti-viral tissues (£2.27)
Vaseline handcream, 50ml (£2.17)

But when the price isn't right
Vosene, Pantene or Simple shampoo — if you've got
expensive highlights, only salon shampoo will do
Tea — PG Tips may be cheap but I like Yorkshire Tea or Twinings
Earl Grey
Maxwell House — life's too short for instant coffee
Princes chopped tomatoes — I know they go straight in a pan but it has to be Waitrose own brand
Eggs — I wouldn't touch "caged hen" eggs
Saxa salt — again, I know it's just for cooking but I only use Maldon sea salt
Olive oil — no room for compromise here, especially on salads. I buy only extra-virgin.

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