At the end of every week I have the classic conundrum: “It’s Carb Blow-Out Day; which trans fat am I going to waste it on?” Sure, any form of bread brings the good times, but what about the good-old-fashioned Friday night fish and chips? Living landlocked has its advantages—directional fashion, airport stopovers and foie gras—but nothing seems to compete with the simple taste of butchers’ paper-infused fried treats. Delightful as they are on their own, the Belgian potato delicacy often needs a partner in crime: concentrated tomato.

Call it what you want—ketchup, tomato sauce, dead ‘orse—it is liquid, unadulterated bogan gold. Accompanying a meal, or as a meal of its own, nothing beats that incredible tang at the tip of your tongue. That is, of course, unless you’re in a restaurant.

Sir Kensington’s Ketchup is different, however. No longer do you have to feel like the social pariah at Dorsia* when requesting that crimson purée we all so embarrassingly desire. A divine fusion of vine-ripened tomatoes, apple cider, mustard and a Colonel Sanders’ worth (note new collective noun) of secret herbs and spices, it’s the perfect date to any plate. Available online US$9 a jar or $108 a case, it’s a veritable bargain. Oh, and I do believe Sir Kensington is wearing a top hat.

* Might or might not be a fictional restaurant created by Bret Easton Ellis, yet however, still living on strongly in my mind.

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