I have a good friend who is a food purist – to conceal his identity I’ll call him Gavin – and he is very vocal about not fixing what ain’t broken when it comes to the culinary classics.

For example, potato chips come in four flavours only: plain, chicken, salt and vinegar and barbecue.

In his opinion, and mine, newfangled flavours like sweet chilli, tomato sauce and sour cream should be filed fair and square under condiments and never let within cooee of that crispy potato goodness.

Similarly, pizzas must have shredded pork, pineapple and cheese as the bare minimum and then a few extras, like anchovies and olives, thrown on top. Wild rocket, fennel and gorgonzola all have their place but it’s in the nearest waste receptacle, not on top of a dough frisbee.

But my big bug bear is the array of chicken parmas around now. A parma is crumbed chicken with a tomato, ham and cheese topping.

It doesn’t come with avocado, barbecue sauce or, heaven forbid, nachos. It’s like dipping snails in garlic and saying it’s a gourmet meal. Personally I felt like I was chewing on a very expensive garden hose.

But my friend can be a bit high maintenance when it comes to eating out. Here’s a typical order: “I’ll have the steak sandwich but I don’t want any onion, tomato, cheese, lettuce or relish and can the bread be multigrain, and I want the eggs with yolks like squash balls and can I just have a bit of barbecue sauce on the side.” 

By the time he’s finished ordering, I feel so sorry for the poor waitress I plump for the roast of the day when I actually wanted the steak, medium rare, with pepper sauce and chips and salad.