The Courier & Advertiser (Angus and Dundee)
Strong suspicion of fowl play
Why did the chlorinated chicken cross the Atlantic? To save Brexit’s bacon, some would aver, in the shape of the Greatest Trade Deal Ever Made
(© D J Trump).
But while there may be something rotten in many European states other than unjustly singled-out Denmark (that Shakespeare has a lot to answer for), here in the (still, just) United Kingdom, it appears to be fishy rather than meaty.
Much has been made of the interminable “negotiating” – for want of a better word, such as “wrangling” – with the European Union over what, if any, relationship good old Blighty is going to have with our continental neighbours in the brave new world of Brexit.
Remember Brexit? It was the crisis before Covid-19. And if current form is anything to go by, it is setting a somewhat dangerous precedent for our favourite virus by coming back again just when we thought it might have beggared off to bother someone else. Brexit is back and bringing with it all the uncertainties and indecision that only a British Government can muster these days.
Take the aforementioned chlorinated chicken. Please. Because no one else seems to want it, much. Of course, it could be argued that the saintly President Trump is only trying to save the rest of the world from itself (having done such a good job thus far on his fellow Americans) by offering them the ultimate BOGOF. If the nice, healthy, clean chlorine is already in the beleaguered bird when it lands here, perhaps he is working on the principle that supplying it at source gets rid of the need to drink the bleach that is allegedly going to save everyone from the worst depredations of coronavirus.
Be that as it may, in the era of fake news and the spreading of disinformation via social media, the “fact” that Britain’s proposed trade deal with America apparently includes the free movement over our green and pleasant land of this chemically-doctored fowl is being robustly challenged. And that’s where the seriously fishy bit comes in. Chlorinated chicken, according to many sniggering sources and, most recently, Scottish Secretary Alister Jack, is a “red herring”. Some things are, indeed, beyond satire…
But, in the style of those breathy M&S food ads, this is not just a “red herring”. It is a “confected red herring” which sounds like nothing so much as a lockdown recipe concocted via the pages of Nigella Bites or The Hairy Bikers’ Doing Whatever It Is They Do on Wheels. In other words, someone’s making it up.
However, as we all know from our long and fruitful, if fractious, relationship with the EU, there is much fun to be had in cherry-picking supposed rules and regulations to be outraged about. Only for the most part, it wasn’t cherries; it was bananas. And it is here, I would posit, that we are hearing the sound of chlorinated chickens coming home to roost.
Who could it have been who took the EU’S ruling that bananas should be “free from malformation or abnormal curvature” and parlayed it into: “They’re going to make us eat straight bananas! They’re not going to let us buy them in bunches of more than three! They’re planning a banana police force!” Swiftly followed by the claim that “they” were going
“There appears to be an area as grey as the alleged meat content of a Scotch pie around the state of future food labelling legislation
to ban prawn cocktail crisps (which would be a blessing to humanity, if you ask me) and, once the effects of these terrible food diktats took their inevitable toll, force us all to be buried in “euro coffins”. One Boris Johnson, when he was a daily newspaper’s Brussels correspondent mayhap? Is the correct answer!
Which is where he might be on a bit of a hiding to nothing now. Let’s face it, if people chose to believe the notion that bureaucratic old Brussels went about dictating the shape and form of their bananas (not to mention the Attack of the Killer Square Tomatoes), what makes you think they’re going to believe you when you tell them that chlorinated chicken is actually a myth? People being as contrary as they are will be going round looking for it so they can refuse to buy it and make a song and dance about it while they’re at it. Or they’ll be casing the joint to ferret out the chicken’ s equally artificially enhanced cousin, “hormone-induced beef”. (Although to digress briefly, I would suggest that if you want to see hormone-induced beefing at first hand, all you have to do is read a regular newspaper column written by an opinionated menopausal woman. (I thank you.)
Of course, this all depends on whether the buying public can find out where all this stuff is and who’s actually selling it, as there appears to be an area as grey as the alleged meat content of a Scotch pie around the state of future food labelling legislation.
In spite of this lengthy rant, however, I’m a bit more worried, after the House of Commons’ actions this week, about the votes against protecting the NHS from outside influence come the glorious day.
But there you go. It just goes to show you can’t have your chlorinated chicken and eat it. That would be just bananas…