A crab stick and taramasalata baguette I was young and carefree, living in Barons Court, west London, in the mid-90s. Chains weren't a thing, and delis all had sandwich fillings laid out in silver dishes of a uniform, surgical shape, inviting adventure. Russian salad and ham? Sure, why not. The price structure was weird: sometimes everything was the same, and other times you'd accidentally hit a premium ingredient and your sandwich would be 3.50. That's how I hit on the crab stick and taramasalata baguette, after a financial catastrophe involving actual crab. Crab sticks taste nothing like crab. They are, in fact, more delicious. So much better. And everything so pink. My life was like a fairytale.