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.