Blackpool Vic used to do a surprisingly good porridge back in the 90's when I was in there as a kid but since then I've become a connaisseur of French hospital slop.
St Mamet coloured sugar water individual portioned jam. I used to kid myself that if I got the apricot on my tray that this was truly a good day and finding plum instead was enough to put things wrong with me for at least an hour until I'd flicked through a copy of Closer celebrity gossip magazine as best I could with a drip in the crook of my elbow.
Biscottes in individual packets of two to go with the jam. Again, broken or unbroken were seen as an omen. To their credit, I've never been given margerine instead of butter to go with this combo.
Pots of natural unflavoured yoghurt wirh a sachet of granulated sugar to sprinkle.
A highly refridgerated banana.
Apple compote.
A bowl of hot water to put a sachet of chicory coffee in. Or maybe instant hot chocolate. If you're lucky.
Tabbouleh salad with the really hard chickpeas.
Danette. A sort of ready made Angel Delight style pudding. Again, flavours on a sliding scale from chocolate (best) through caramel (OK) to coffee. (An harbinger of doom.)
The little sweaty cheeses. With ranking system from top to bottom:
Brie
Camembert
Emmanthal.
Laughing Cow.
Anything blue because I didn't have a cracker unless I'd saved a biscotte from breakfast. Likewise Laughing Cow because eating a cheesy triangle just as it comes is a skill that leaves you at about three years old.