Oh. My. God. I never thought I would find a pickled onion to rival those made by my dad, my uncle and, once upon a very laborious time, me. But I picked these up at the supermarket tonight, mainly as a novelty item because I couldn’t believe Barry Norman was doing a Paul Newman and launching himself on the food chain. But they are amazing. Crunchy ,crispy, and so spicy they’re painful. And they have afforded me the opportunity to say my current favourite word, onioniest – say it, it’s fun. Onioniest. They are the onioniest.

Anyway, if you like pickled onions, don’t faff about with those silverskin wussy pussies – if you can’t get a member of my family to make you some, these are a very close second. Recommended. Just don’t breathe on anyone for a week.