The Accidental Catholic.

In the Catholic community of my childhood, we were forbidden to eat meat on Good Friday. So as soon as McDonald’s opened round our way, my mate Eddie Keal and I would meet there to scoff a quarter pounder and raise a metaphorical finger to this ludicrous custom. We kept it up as adults, meeting every Good Friday for steak au poivre. Today, however, Eddie would be ashamed of me. I’ve just come back from the fish & chip shop in Muswell Hill with cod and chips for four and realised that, for the first time in years, I haven’t eaten a morsel of meat on Good Friday. I’ve unwittingly kept to the Catholic code of conduct. Oh Christ, I may as well go the whole hog and start singing along to this.