OK, Greggs, we have a problem.

What this sandwich is supposed to contain (and I quote): “Chicken breast pieces in mayonnaise, sweetcure bacon, sage & onion stuffing, cranberry and caramelised red onion relish on malted brown”.

What this sandwich actually contains: The usual Greggs chicken goo, two chunks of stuffing, something I’ve come to call “anti-bacon”, and raw onion.

No cranberry. No relish. I only bought the damn thing for the chicken-stuffing-cranberry combination. I’ve been denied.

Greggs, look at the picture to your right. Now look back to me. Does that picture fill you with Christmas joy? Does it? Yeah maybe NOT. Chicken plus stuffing plus cranberry is supposed to equal festive spirit. For me it conjures up memories of childhood Christmases spent going to look at the Regent Street lights, being marched around Hamleys with the crowds, a gathering of your nearest and dearest for one perfect day of the year where everyone can put everything aside and just get along. A cosy warm house in the cold weather, slippers sitting proudly on your feet, red wine and Christmas crackers. Mince pies and leaving carrots with milk out for the reindeer.

I don’t get that from this sandwich. This sandwich makes me depressed. I’ve never before had a sandwich that made me want to die. That’s your fault, Greggs.

Greggs, you killed Christmas.

Verdict: WHERE IS THE CRANBERRY.