What’s in a name? … burger all, it seems!

The management in a Tesco store didn’t find the antics of the pair masquerading as a pantomime horse quite as amusing as the person videoing their antics. The video, that went viral on YouTube, has the cameraman giggling as the ‘horse’ makes its way through the food section calling for its mom. The other shoppers seemed to see the joke – so did the cashiers. Management are so humourless.


The news that prompted this prank was that horse meat was detected in the composition of burgers and other meat products. Tesco cleaned everything off their shelves so that even people who didn’t care about it couldn’t get a burger for love nor money. And there are a huge crowd who really don’t care! One telling post on the social media that caught my attention was the one that stated “if the package had only displayed x-percentage horse meat, it would have been fine.”

The fuss, it seems, is not about the horse meat, but the fact that the ingredients weren’t spelled out. One wonders for how long the horse meat-additive has been going on for, months or (perish the thought) years? One also wonders whether people exercise the same diligence when dining as they do when shopping.

“Excuse me, waiter, can you confirm what percentage of salt is in this risotto? And did the bread comply with the industry standard of cross-panning, thus making it easier to slice with a finer and whiter crumb texture?”

While it is important to know what we are consuming, Raymond Blanc has waded in with a challenge to the British attitude to food that he calls hypocritical. He cites the example of chicken burgers, that are made from the meat, feet, beaks and claws of battery-farmed poultry, but at least they’re 100% chicken, being consumed with abandon! It’s a good read and he has valid points.

It does seem odd that some folk are so concerned about what they buy in the supermarkets yet think nothing of eating the fare served to them that many find ‘different’ or ‘traditional’ – like black pudding, or haggis, or tripe. Or when visiting the Continent will eat ‘what the locals eat.’ I wonder if they realize what rollmops are, or foie gras or ‘cuisses de grenouilles’ or ‘rocky mountain oysters.’ They must do. Do they scrutinize the ingredients list and as long as it’s listed, are fine with it? “OK, let’s see … congealed pig blood, oatmeal, sugar, fat, salt – yep, it’s all there, let’s buy it!”

Fortunately for local customers, the restaurants and eateries who contract Rutters as their Stocktakers do have an excellent knowledge of the produce they order in as well as the quality and standards their guests demand. All the ‘garçon’ has to do when asked about the salt content of the risotto is to toddle off to get the answer.

The Prince of Wales experienced excellent quality produce recently when he was hailed by some locals in Liverpool to “join them for a pint” in The Florrie. He ordered half a Guinness (he does like his stout) and then spent some time chatting.

Guinness comes from Ireland, just like Tesco’s burgers – but I suppose HRH knew what was in his tipple.


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