SOME so-called foods yield so little nutritional reward for the painstaking effort of eating them that they’re better off in the bin. Like these pathetic examples.

Chicken wings

It’s small wonder chickens are so shit at flying if this is all the power of airborne propulsion nature granted them. You get nothing from eating their wings, aside from the chance of choking on one of the silly little bones. While the notion of nose-to-tail eating is good in theory, these fleshless flaps are just a waste of time.

Pomegranates

After you’ve spent ten minutes wrestling a pomegranate apart, the only edible element you’re left with are the diamond-hard seeds. Poncy chefs insist on using them to decorate expensive salads when they’d be better off using something actually tasty like crispy bacon bits or croutons. You’ll also run the risk of cracking a tooth on the pips, or getting one stuck under a filling. Pointless.

Watermelons

The ratio of effort-to-reward you get when eating a watermelon is incredibly imbalanced. Having almost sliced open an artery using your biggest kitchen knife to saw through the rock solid skin, all you end up with a small amount of tasteless flesh and, depending on the variety, a f**k load of slimy seeds. Honestly, just get over yourself and have a banana.

Avocados

One of the few things boomers aren’t wrong about is that avocados are a waste of money. Peel the skin, remove the stone and cut out the nasty brown bits where they’ve been squeezed too many times in the supermarket, and what are you left with? Bugger all, aside from a bad mood at having wasted two quid on this shit.

Quavers

Beloved of stoners, for whom the disconcerting feeling of being more hungry after eating than before is a normal everyday occurrence, Quavers are just bite-sized bits of air sporting a faint aroma of cheap cheese. You’ll expend more energy opening the packet than you’ll derive from consuming its contents. Stop being such a baby and enjoy a nice slice of extra mature cheddar instead.

Mussels

Ooh, let’s have steamed mussels for dinner, that will be fancy, you think to yourself while strolling around Waitrose. However, once you’ve washed the grit out, made a white wine sauce, steamed them and picked out the dodgy ones, what are you left with? A fiddly, messy dinner which is so insubstantial you’ll be filling up on toast later. Leave them to the French, who will eat any old shit, the more pretentious and difficult the better.