Time for a return to Travellers Fare
Back in the 80s there where the same gripes about their prices too.
There are always gripes about any prices for anything, but the gripes in this thread have a deal more justification than the gripes back then.
When BR did their own catering I was reasonably happy to make use of it as it was not too difficult to get a quantity of food worth eating for the money. Booze, too. It wasn't
cheap to buy a few cans and gently pickle myself over the course of a long journey, but it wasn't grossly unreasonable either.
Then there came a gap where BR weren't doing it any more and nobody else was either, or if they were they were always shut, and you had to hope for a functioning coin-in-the-slot machine to get an expensive and stunted bar of chocolate from if you were desperate.
When the third party operations finally began to exist in reasonable numbers and to remain open for longer than just the busiest weekday hours, they were already unsatisfactory: twice or more the old-style prices for physically smaller items from a less comprehensive selection. So now the situation had effectively become a choice between stunted chocolate if you were desperate, or third-party buffet-replacement if you were
really desperate, which didn't really count as much of an improvement.
Since then the state of things has basically remained the same in nature while exaggerating itself, so now we have multiple third party operations in the same location and they are
all crap, selling bite-sized items at prices which place them beyond consideration no matter how desperate you are.
The result is that I have gone from making use of railway catering with only moderate reluctance to refusing to make any use of it whatsoever, despite having (slightly) more money now than I did then.
People used to make jokes about British Rail sandwiches but they did not correspond to reality even at the time. I ate plenty of those sandwiches and there was never anything about them to take exception to. They were entirely unexceptional examples of the standard sandwich made with plastic bread: not as good as one freshly made with real bread, but notably better than one made with real bread after it has been festering in your lunch box for a couple of hours. Just like today's supermarket sandwiches, in fact. The only major point of dissatisfaction was that they were too often out of stock of anything that didn't have tomatoes in (even the residue remaining after extracting unwanted slices of tomato is enough to put me at risk of throwing up).
The era of the real station buffet also had the inestimable advantage that there was only one of them and it was an integral part of the station buildings. You didn't have to put up with this proliferation of innumerable fancy portakabins encroaching on the pedestrian space, getting in the way and blowing out smells and hot air into what in sunny weather is often already an excessively hot and stuffy area. And you could go inside and sit down and eat your meal off a plate with a knife and fork in a civilised fashion, instead of carrying it off to the train in a paper bag and spraying crumbs and grease all over the place.
The one point where they did fail was in not providing a decent cup of tea, although even there they were still both cheaper and far better than the standard dishwater made in a paper cup using a half-sized teabag and some appalling concoction called "whitener" that you get these days. It is ridiculous how this country with its legendary tea obsession is so amazingly crap at providing an even remotely decent cup of it in a catering context. So I have fond memories of taking a bottle of water, a bottle of milk, a box of tea leaves, a teapot, a mug, and a camping stove along in my bag and brewing up on the floor of a Mk 1 compartment. I suppose these days they would slit your stomach open and hang out your intestines to dry along the lineside fence for even thinking of that.
In both of those places you're not actually buying a drink, what you pay rents your table for an hour so you can see / be seen.
Same principle as buying coffee from Caffe Caca and parading around drinking it from a cup with the name of the seller in big letters on the outside and sneering at people who have bought theirs from somewhere slightly cheaper. Or doing your shopping at Lidl and taking it home in Waitrose bags. Moronic monkey status games are universal at all levels, and their huge potential for facilitating the extraction of unreasonable sums of money from said monkeys is definitely one significant factor in shoving up the prices for food sold for consumption in the sight of hundreds of other monkeys waiting for their trains.