These are anxious times for the good (organic) burghers of Milngavie.

This week they will learn whether a new Waitrose superstore can be built in the town, and the hopes and wishes of the nation are with them. The sooner the scourge of ignorant food is expunged from our society, the better. Cartoon-based cereals? Yuk. Bring on the ciabatta and sun-dried tomatoes (actually, rain-lashed leeks and sleet-slammed swede might be more appropriate).

Ah yes. Not just free-range chickens – everyone does those – but organic, free-range chickens with degrees. Some of Waitrose's chickens have studied Classics. Brought one home the other day and there was a copy of Plato's Republic under its wing. They don't just have ordinary hens there, but bi-lingual ones, not like those thick ones you get elsewhere. And their muesli – it's not just the weak variety they sell elsewhere. This is muesli so cultured it contains shavings of ancient monuments. This is muesli so refined (but still crunchy), it's practically listed.

Whether we feel comfortable admitting it or not, we are all followers of the Way of the Trose, from time to time. This is nothing to do with sartorial style, but food fashion, lifestyle fashion. Or is it just plain snobbery?

The way supermarkets divide up on class lines is one of the more entertaining aspects of life in the UK. Is the milk from Waitrose different from the milk from Tesco or the Co-Op? Are the Waitrose cows more posh? Do their barns have conservatories, plantation shutters in the front windows, better cars in the driveway? (You can tell the cows that supply Morrisons. It's all satellite dishes like giant mushrooms, and sofas in the gardens.)

Is The Herald you buy in Waitrose better than the one from Tesco? (Actually, I can reveal it is: The Herald in Waitrose is printed on 100% organic paper, lovingly crafted from privately educated, hand-reared trees in Norway that have been watered with Evian since they were saplings).

Surely staples are staples? Tea is tea and sugar is sugar. Trouble is, we've all been caught out with fruit. Remember those times you've done the shopping and your partner starts eating the grapes, pauses and asks, "Where did you buy these?" You have a precious few seconds. Your answer is very important. You mumble 'Um - MorritroseandSpencers -'" Too late! You've been rumbled. Cue rant: "I've toldyuounevertobuyfruitfromthere!"