Seat Of Learning

Paul Stammers takes a detailed look at chairs, Coldplay and snack strategies.

BALSA’S got loads of uses. You can make model aircraft out of it, or insulation material ... or, um, model aircraft.

Or lightweight furniture suitable for, say, a fast food chain with a fondness for a browny-beige colour scheme.

I don’t know enough about timber to say for certain the chairs and tables in Eat are balsa, but I can state categorically they look like they are made from the plain, but versatile, South American hardwood.

And why not? It makes sense from a health and safety point of view.

Lifting a lightweight chair is far less likely to lead to a back complaint, if staff have to lug the furniture. And, should a customer become so irked about the texture of their tortilla wrap as to hurl a seat across the shop, the chances of major damage to the infrastructure are low. I’m surprised it’s not a more popular choice for caterers.

At any time of day, some of the seats at Eat – which still calls itself a small family business despite having dozens of outlets – are empty. Despite the bustle outside, few punters hang around, because of two factors: 1) VAT is charged if you buy a meal and have the temerity to want to sit down. This is one of the few elements of the tax system I understand, because – generally speaking – being seated adds value to the experience when the alternative is wandering around among the throng in Queen Street, but the difference in price is noticeable and Eat isn’t particularly cheap in the first place.

2) You have to listen to music if you remain in the shop, which can diminish one’s enjoyment of the chosen snack.

On Tuesday lunchtime, the morose wailings of Coldplay were being foisted on the hapless consumers (part of whose hard-earned cash would have gone towards paying the Performing Rights Society fees).

Being subjected to VAT and Coldplay? That’s only a couple of notches below being “waterboarded” at Guantanamo Bay.

WAS THE PLACE BUSY?

Merely brisk at about 12.40pm, allowing two polite, friendly workers to dispense the stuff at the counter while a lass outside offered passers-by samples of a chilled chocolate drink with squirty foam on top (it tasted about as good as it sounds).

I suspect the fact there was room to move was less to do with the “current economic climate” prompting folk to economise on snacks than with the fact I’d dodged the 1pm rush hour, when these rather narrow premises can become claustrophobic.

My fellow customers were primarily female, and those milling around the cabinets in which the food was displayed could be heard muttering about the prices (“£2.59 for a side serving”), wondering if they ought to give M&S – only a few paces away and with a renowned meals section – a try instead. There’s no over-riding reason to choose Eat over its close rivals, particularly Pret a Manger, as they’re all efficient and generally well stocked, but feel corporate.

Yet Pret suffers from seeming like the Starbucks of sarnies, which has been enough to deter me from going there on occasion.

WHAT DID YOU HAVE?

Being a level-headed chap, I didn’t blow a fuse at seeing that my favourite Eat product – a hunk of cold salmon with salad and boiled potatoes – was nowhere to be seen.

Shunning the noodles with crayfish option and feeling unenthusiastic about the pallid-looking chicken breast with chilli, I plucked the shredded duck with mango salad from the shelf. It had a bright green sticker saying ‘NEW’, so it was bound to be good, I reckoned.

While it was fresh and tasty (mint as well as rocket leaves added plenty of zing), it was undeniably pricey at £4.25.

The packaging claimed the salad was handmade and had a use-by date of April 21 (the same day). The ingredient list on the back stated it contained only 15 per cent duck. For anyone curious about the other statistics, here they are: mango 15 per cent, carrot 13 per cent, cucumber eight per cent, red pepper seven per cent, spinach six per cent, watercress six per cent, and then unspecified quantities of honey, spring onion, cashews, rocket, orange juice, soya sauce, mirin, coriander, mint, sesame oil, sesame seeds, ginger and Chinese five spice. Despite all that, I feared I’d need something else with it, so I picked a pot of fiery wasabi peas at £1 and a can of shandy (remember that stuff?) for a not insubstantial £1.05. Cool in temperature, if not image.

VERDICT: Not at all bad and perhaps more appetising than Pret. But forget the M&S store in Queen Street – if you’re on the move in central Oxford and want a healthy spot of grub, your best bet is in fact Boots, where the Meal Deal option is hard to beat.