RICHARD LITTLEJOHN: It's Finger Lickin' Chlorine Chicken!
RICHARD LITTLEJOHN: It’s Finger Lickin’ Chlorine Chicken! Why we should not fear eating US-bred meat – Britain isn’t an ethical food paradise
Environment Secretary George Eustice insists that the Government has no plans to lower food standards now we have left the EU.
Why, then, are we being subjected, yet again, to hysterical scaremongering about importing chlorinated chicken from the U.S. as part of a post-Brexit transatlantic trade deal?
Ah, say the usual suspects, Useless Eustice hasn’t specifically ruled out changing the law to allow American poultry to be sold in Britain. That means the Tories must be secretly planning to relax the rules.
Environment Secretary George Eustice (pictured) insists that the Government has no plans to lower food standards now we have left the EU
Same goes for hormone-treated beef, which is also currently illegal here.
For crying out loud. I thought we’d heard the last of this ridiculous argument after Project Fear was wound up. Apparently not.
If you believe the horror stories, Donald Trump is still plotting to poison the entire population of Britain by forcing toxic American chicken down our throats.
No, he isn’t.
For the record, Eustice said that most U.S. chicken processors have abandoned chlorine in favour of lactic acid.
British food processors already use lactic acid to wash beef before it goes on sale. So there’s room for ‘sensible discussion’ when trade talks get under way.
Sadly, there’s never any room for sensible discussion when it comes to Trump. Using lactic acid simply means those horrid Americans can carry on breeding chickens in unsanitary conditions.
When Project Fear was in full swing, we were told that if we voted Leave and signed a trade deal with Washington, we’d all die of food poisoning. Now the objections have switched to animal welfare.
You can’t reason with these people. They are so blinded by their hatred of America, in general, and Trump, in particular, that even if every chicken in the U.S. was kept in a five-star hotel room, and spoon-fed organic grain from a silver platter, they’d still find something to complain about.
To be honest, if you look too closely into the way most of our food is produced, you’d never eat anything. What amuses me is the pretence that somehow Britain is an ethical food paradise, thanks to the high standards imposed upon us by our former membership of the EU.
Why, then, are we being subjected, yet again, to hysterical scaremongering about importing chlorinated chicken from the U.S. as part of a post-Brexit transatlantic trade deal?
It was Europe, don’t forget, which sent us delights such as diseased Romanian horsemeat disguised as stewing steak. We’ve had more than our fair share of food scares, from foot and mouth to salmonella in eggs.
Furthermore, it’s hilarious that opponents of a U.S. trade deal have singled out chicken, chlorinated or otherwise.
Have you walked down any High Street lately? There are cheap and cheerful fried chicken shacks every few yards.
Are you prepared to swear that they’re only knocking out birds bred to the highest possible standards? Some of their chicken even comes from the Far East, presently in the grip of the coronavirus crisis.
Would you risk it? Me neither. You’d be safer buying a botulism burger from one of those grubby vans you find outside football grounds. And don’t get me started on doner kebabs, which have an especially dubious provenance.
You want chilli sauce with that, innit?
I’d rather eat out of Top Cat’s dustbin. More to the point, tens of millions of Americans chow down on chicken several times a week. Or, judging by the size of some of them, several times a day. It might not make them sick, but it sure as hell makes them fat.
Curious, too, that many of those people opposed to importing hormone-treated beef from America seem to have no objection to pumping hormones into confused children to help them change sex.
So how can the Government reassure us that American chicken is safe? Perhaps the BBC can be persuaded to lend a hand.
We’ll know they’ve finally cracked it when we turn on Celebrity MasterChef to discover the contestants being told to make a mouthwatering meal out of the following ingredients:
Chicken, chlorine, lactic acid…
The NHS is introducing KFC-style ‘drive-thru’ coronavirus testing. You will be able to get swabbed by a nurse in a hazmat suit without leaving your car.
Do you want fries with that?
Even if we are to be denied chlorinated chicken from the U.S. there may be an enticing alternative. A vegetarian fish found off the coast of California is being promoted as the ‘new white meat’.
It’s three feet long, weighs around six pounds, feeds on algae and is already popping up on the menu in trendy restaurants.
Scientists say the fish is high in protein and could be farmed industrially to replace meat from livestock.
There is one slight problem, though. The late food critic A.A. Gill once told me that no one would touch Patagonian Toothfish until its name was changed to Chilean Sea Bass.
I can’t see anyone queueing up to eat the ‘new white meat’ either — not while it’s still called Monkeyface Prickleback.
That’s quite a mouthful.
I belieeeve in handy Nandy
I was fascinated by this photograph of Cheeky Nandy at the Labour leadership hustings. She certainly looks well equipped when it comes to pointing the finger.
Her hands remind me of the late Kenny Everett’s preacher Brother Lee Love — though somehow I can’t imagine Cheeky ever turning up at a Tory conference and demanding: ‘Let’s bomb Russia!’
Pictured: Gladys Simmonds, nee Littlejohn
Gladys Simmonds, nee Littlejohn, was one of seven sisters and three brothers. My grandad Bill was the eldest, Gladys the youngest. There were 23 years between them.
On Sunday, I was privileged to attend a party in Watton, Norfolk, to celebrate Great Auntie Gladys’s birthday.
She’s 100 today, fit as a fiddle and sharp as a tack. Here she is with her card from the Queen.
Happy birthday, Gladys.
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