Les mauvais supermarches

There are now so many things about living in this country that annoy me I am sometimes at a loss as to where to begin my column. This has an unfortunate effect in that it has sadly lain idle for the best part of a year. I hope, given my increasing levels of bile and general grumpiness that I assume to be not absolutely disconnected to my advancing years, to be a little more diligent in bringing you more frequent thoughts and philosophies in future. And who knows, maybe ultimately somebody will take pity on me and my family and send me away to write regular updates from a sunny veranda somewhere in the south of France.

Of most pressing distress to my composure recently is the ever increasing influence of the major supermarket chains on our diet and eating habits, and the hugely wasteful nature of much of the packaging that goes into the synthetic homogenised muck they peddle. Let’s take the fresh fruit and vegetable section as a prime example. Here is an area where nature in her glory has provided bountiful produce; wholesome, nourishing and damn tasty – and all neatly wrapped in its own little protective coating ready for us eager consumers to simply wash or peel away.

It would seem the most obvious idea in the word then to simply lay out the stall, and allow customers to help themselves to exactly the number of potatoes, carrots or asparagus spears they need. As a consumer I don’t find this concept difficult, nor do I object to being asked to do the work traditionally done by shopkeepers in years gone by (hey – I can move with the times too you know). But if it’s not bad enough that from the free choices we are able to make we must use these damn plastic bags, we are more and more often forced into purchasing exactly 454 grams of carrots when all we need is two (carrots that is, not grams).

Of even greater annoyance however, is the single most wasteful and pointless packaging that is the shrink-wrapping of individual peppers – be they green, red, yellow or orange – and turnips (now there’s a word very useful when writing a piece about supermarket management). Now please excuse me but I must resort to profanity here – who the fuck came up with this idea and thought it a good one? Is it not bad enough that all our peppers look the same? Is it not bad enough that most are grown in some kind of hydroponic and artificial atmosphere? Clearly not, for somewhere along the supply chain an individual made a decision to shrink wrap these little containers of goodness because it was clearly far too risky to leave it to chance at the checkout where some spotty adolescent who would much rather be drinking cider down at the graveyard might mistake a green capsicum for an avocado.

Passing through this haven of nature however to the other aisles and I am increasingly incredulous at the sheer volume of fizzy, sugary water the supermarkets flog and we seem to lap up. Is it any wonder that dental health in this country is in the state it is. Who on earth really needs to buy six, two litre bottles of cola a week? Turn on a tap if you’re thirsty for goodness sake. You’ll keep your teeth and your skin will be better.

What further amazes me though beyond the state of the vegetable garden and the EU sugary drink lake that we seem to be single handedly disposing of in the UK, is the singular lack of ingredients on the shelves. Does nobody cook any more? We seem to have more celebrity-endorsed TV programmes than ever before, highlighting the joys and benefits of cooking natural, nutritious and tasty meals from ingredients, but there seem few of us willing to take our interest out of the living room and into the kitchen. What it seems to me happens, is that the supermarkets peddle this vast range of ready made meals that we all slam in the microwave then munch directly out of the plastic tray with disposable cutlery all while watching that young tyke Jamie Oliver extol the virtues of good wholesome cooking – and frankly showing how damn easy it is whether you like the cheeky chap or not.

My experience in France (and other Mediterranean countries for that matter) displays a far more respectful attitude to food. Most significantly almost every town and city has a fresh produce market at least once, if not twice, a week. At these markets you can poke and prod the goods, feel them, smell them and buy just exactly how many of whatever you’d like. The vegetables come complete with genuine dirt, and there are artisan grocers who specialise in selling single items like the men who arrive with van loads of garlic strings!

Even at these open air festivals of food, you can sample wonderful cheeses, cooked meats, and drinks and to be honest you could easily do all your grocery shopping in these places. And don’t be under any misapprehension that it is only the provincial towns and villages that have these wonderful scenes. Paris for example, that greatest of metropolitan cities, has wonderful street markets offering a bewildering choice of produce.

And the respect for food does not end with the street vendors – even the supermarkets in France seem to have more respect for what we put inside ourselves. Homogeneity is something uncommon rather than the norm, local produce is sold in local supermarkets, and perhaps most importantly, the cheese they sell isn’t wrapped in cling film which makes even the mildest of cheeses sweat uncomfortably.

Let’s face it, it’s just better. We need to take a long hard look at how we live here. It’s getting worse and we’re in danger of becoming a nation of morbid obesity and bland palates. Let’s celebrate food, and let’s return to what it seems a lot of us view as a slightly quirky lifestyle where people sat down together to eat food made from ingredients.

Le bus

It’s a sharp, cold day in March. “In like a lion, out like a lamb” my Mum used to say. Still does in fact, she said it last night when I spoke to her on the phone. As an epithet it offers us hope that spring is only just around the corner. As a fact it means that it’s damn cold, the streets and pavements are covered in rock salt that makes my shoes go all white and crusty, and my lips are permanently chapped and cracked.

Adding to my woes is the dreadful state of public transport these days where a safe, reliable, convenient and affordable bus service seems to have gone the same way as the Meadow Pippit. What exactly is the problem with the UK and public transport? I simply cannot fathom why we have consistently as both a country of nations and a United Kingdom we have failed to get this sorted once and for all.

What exactly is the problem? Provide and enforce clearways for buses. Make them cheap, regular, clean and comfortable. Err, that would seem to be it wouldn’t it?

Having spent an enjoyable long weekend in Paris recently I speak as someone with recent memories of a transport system that works for and with the inhabitants of a large metropolitan city. The operation of the Metro, the RER and the various bus lines provides a complex yet understandable and logical matrix of transport possibilities beyond the sophistication of anything I have yet to come across in the UK. Fares are integrated, transfer is easy and you can use mobile phones on the tube – what gives?

Of course none of this comes without a price. But whereas the French authorities believe that a publicly supported integrated transport system brings with it economic, social and environmental benefits, we are still battling with conglomerates at one end of the spectrum in an open and privatised transport policy framework to one-man businesses stealing what little business they can from the dominant companies by running their tired and dreary mini-buses into the ground.

There seems to be a dramatic lack of imagination and indeed drive (if you’ll excuse the pun) that goes into supporting the transport services directly, but more significantly is the unfathomable lack of vision that would provide for a truly open and accessible transport infrastructure. What I mean is let’s not just make it less and less attractive to take the car, so that somehow getting the bus becomes the lesser of two evils, let’s instead make it a genuinely more attractive option to use public transport. It should be naturally more convenient, more reliable and cheaper than other options available. Different forms of pubic transport should integrate seamlessly and for pity’s sake, when will we stop having to pay our fairs to the bus driver and instead pre-purchase commonly exchangeable travel tokens like in almost any other European city.

I’m also impressed that in France, public transport serves a single function; it gets people from one place to the next. They are not smoking dens. They are not nightclubs, nor are they video-jukeboxes. I had the misfortune only this morning to travel into the centre of Glasgow on a bus equipped with a video screen and speakers. For the entire 30 minute journey (which would only take 20 if the route was properly managed) I endured inane advertising features, film trailers and music videos from a bygone age (presumably cheaper than showing those from any of the currently popular beat combos). Having done some research into this matter I can advise you that these screens are intended to distract the local Neds (Chavs for those south of the Scottish border) from vandalising the bus. Whatever happened to policing?

Frankly on this experience I despair for the future of public transport in this country. France has bravely taken the opportunity to serve its people with a transport infrastructure served by policy that genuinely takes account of needs. It allows people to move freely and comfortably. It challenges accepted models of service and allows for genuine innovation (TGV anyone) and what’s more it’s better for us all. Fewer cars, cleaner air, better cities. And in many cases you can buy travel tickets at bars – now how cool is that.