No battery required: well done, Sainsbury’s
Of all the things I really miss about home, it’s being close to a really nice, big supermarket: being able to choose from tons of lovely stuff rather than having to make do with whatever the smaller shops can squeeze onto their limited shelves. And although our closest was Tesco, there was a really nice Sainsbury’s not too far away (do you know what, I can’t even remember the name of the town, and I’ve only been gone two years. It’ll come to me, I’m sure). I really like Sainsbury’s (and no, it’s not just the Jamie Oliver connection), I like the stuff they sell and their values too (I love Waitrose, too, but seriously – who can afford to shop there?). And true to form, their latest press release is a sign that they’re way ahead of the competition.
From the 5th February, Sainsbury’s have announced that it will sell only eggs from uncaged birds. I think, to be fair, that M&S or maybe Waitrose were the first to do this, but still, Sainsbury’s is the first of the big four to ban battery eggs and hopefully it will force the other big hitters to do the same. Compassion in World Farming have called the move ‘breathtaking‘ and praised Sainsbury’s ‘genuine commitment to continuously improving life for all farm animals in their supply chain‘.
Still on the subject of welfare, there’s some cracking TV coming up over the next few weeks. I’m gutted I missed Jay Rayner’s ‘True Cost of Cheap Food’, but Channel 4′s ‘Great British Food Fight’ continues with the return of the chicken’s champion, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, as he continues to badger the hell out of poor Tesco (26 January, 9pm), and Jamie moves from chickens to pigs in Jamie Saves Our Bacon (29th January 9pm). Bring it on, I say.
Your last meal. Evereverever.
Okay, so the bad news, obviously, is that you’re just about to die a most horrible death (metaphorically speaking, natch) but the good news is that you can have anything you want for your last meal. And I mean ANYTHING. This morning we started along the ‘last spoonful’ path, which obviously wasn’t quite enough for my gang of extremely greedy commenters.
Likely suspects so far include Jennifer, Bert’s #1 fan:
Starters – hmm, Suppli or tomato, buffalo mozzerella and fresh basil leaves with a drizzle of balsamic.
Main – lamb shank with mint gravy and M&S croquet potatos (not very gourmet I know but they’re scrummy).
Dessert – Gooey, runny, warm, chocolate fudge cake, with a scoop of really good quality vanilla ice cream to break the richness of the cake.
Then Wee Jen (who’s completely to blame for all this pretend face-stuffing):
A great big mezze plate (wot?! is that cheating?)
Hubbie’s garlicky lemon roast chicken, cooked over the roast potatoes so they go all lubbly-tasty with the schmaltz. There would be token greenery too and a gloriously-risen Yorkshire pudding.
Dutch applecake, scented with cinnamon and a big dollop of cream or hazlenut icecream on the side.
I might even find room for cheese.
…and Baino:
Entree: Rare carpaccio of filet beef on watercress salad with balsamic vinegar and horseradish cream
Main: Seared green lobster tail in garlic butter, crusty baguette and warm mesclin lettuce salad with caramilised pumpkin squares and new potatoes
Dessert: Lime cheesecake on a chocolate biscuit crust.
As for me? Hmmm, tricky one. I suspect you could ask me any day and it would be something different, but right now (which is difficult because I’m completely stuffed with chilli at the moment), it would be something I really, really miss:
Starter: A cute little onion bhaji and maybe some popadums, plus some fresh onion salad and the little bowls of raita and chutney and pickle
Main: A really gorgeous chicken biryani, with buttery, spicy rice, tender chicken and that lovely vegetable curry. Ooh, although I have to admit for a very tacky craving for chicken korma too. Not had one since I left the UK *sob*
Dessert: Slightly off-course here geographically, but it would have to be steamed syrup pudding with custard AND cream AND ice cream. (What? I’m dying here).
Over to you, then. And yes, the Jens and Baino can have another go if they want, just so they don’t feel left out.
Foie gras? I’ll pass, thanks all the same
On Sky today, they had a news item about the force feeding of ducks and geese for the foie gras industry (DON’T click on this link if you’re easily upset) in Hungary and Bulgaria. The charity Four Paws took sneaky video evidence of this force feeding practice and I have to say, it’s not pleasant viewing. So yes, different cultures think different things are acceptable. I wouldn’t think many people in the UK or Ireland would ever think of eating foie gras, but in some places in Europe, like France, it’s hugely popular. The charity workers trying to get the undercover film were chased and threatened with axes – someone not particularly happy about being filmed, methinks?
Now I’m not an animal rights campaigner. I eat beef, and chicken and pork and all that stuff and I know the animals die in order that I can eat them. However, I don’t want anything to suffer on my behalf, and I do find it incredibly distasteful in this day and age when the public demand much higher levels of animal welfare, that the mighty Tesco feel that it’s acceptable to sell this product in their Hungarian branches, while declaring that they don’t sell it here on ‘welfare grounds’.
I have heard, by the way, that some foie gras facilities have ‘free range’ geese and ducks, and that they rush over to the ‘force-feeding’ machine at dindins time. I wouldn’t know, but the crating seems excessively cruel. I know foie gras is a foodie thing, and is regarded as a delicacy, but being responsible for shutting a bird in a teeny cage and and walloping a great tube down its neck twice a day in order to make something yummy would put me right off ordering it. Sorry and all that. Stupid question, but is there a kinder way to produce it?
English Mum’s ‘Don’t Eat Six Gingercakes’ Diet
So Hubby and D-next-door play 6-a-side soccer on a Thursday (well, sometimes it’s 5-a-side, or 7, depending on who can be arsed). They come home absolutely shattered, pouring with sweat, have a quick shower and bugger off to the pub where they consume large amounts of beer. I can’t help myself; I have to question how healthy this pastime actually is. I, on the other hand, don’t bother with the exercise or the working up of a sweat – I just go straight into the vino. We have a chat and decide that we’re probably not the healthiest of families.
The thing is, though, dear reader, I generally don’t think we do too badly. We have good, freshly prepared food, eat plenty of fruit and vegetables, we exercise… Well, I walk the dog every day and Hubby has a gym in the garage (I don’t go in since my run-in (hah) with the evil running machine that glares at me when I go to put stuff in the tumble dryer. It made me dry-heave after ten minutes then spat me onto the floor). But yes, I do have a serious baking addiction and a fondness for a glass of wine or seven. Where do you draw the line? I think I’m quite healthy – I’m a size 12, which is probably about right for my 5’7″ frame. I have been this size for my whole adult life. Yes, I have ‘tits and ass’ (sorry mother), but I like them, I’m fond of them and I don’t want them to disappear.
But (or should that be butt), equally, I’ve noticed the curve of my tummy being rather more pronounced recently, and as much as I love curves, I wouldn’t want them to be lost under rolls of flab either. I want to continue to be healthy, but to curb some of my more extreme habits (the baking of 6 ginger cakes in one day because I couldn’t quite get it sticky enough being one of them).
I absolutely and utterly will not do diets. I won’t have the D word even mentioned in my house. I think denial equals disaster. Healthy eating is one thing, but denying yourself fruit on the Atkins diet because it contains hidden sugar is just plain mental and unhealthy and I won’t countenance it. We have a long chat, and decide on the following rules for English Towers:
- We will try to have a healthy breakfast (damn, there goes the enormous slice of leftover ginger cake and the big fat hot chocolate, then)
- We will cut down on the amount of refined food and junk that we eat. Damn you, Ronald McDonald.
- We will try to avoid eating big stodgy meals after 6pm (scientific studies – not that pillock Atkins – have proven that you don’t need huge amounts of carbs at night when you’re going to just sit around and not burn them off).
- We will (double gulp) cut down on our alcohol intake. Initially we’ll try to just drink alcohol at weekends.
- We will do all this without making a big fuss and involving our children in ‘ooh, I can’t possibly eat that’ type conversations.
There. I’ve said it. And now I’ve told you all it will have to become law or I’ll look really stupid. And I’ve just bought 24 bottles of Jacob’s Creek up at Tesco’s in Enniskillen too. Damn.
