With the Organic Food Festival – run by the toffs of the Soil Association – in town for the weekend, you can rely on The Evening Cancer to be talking a lot of old bollocks about it.
No surprise then that this week’s Seven supplement is entirely dedicated to talking down to its low brow audience about this snobs’ food festival happening at the Harbourside all weekend.
We particularly find Cancer food writer, Mark Taylor, in his snooty – if unscientific – element reviewing various local organic food outlets like he’s some sort of wealthy metropolitan half-wit liberal out of foodies’ bible The Observer Food Monthly. He positively gushes over St Werburghs’ Better Food Company:
“It was a naughty and sinful end to what was essentially a guilt-free and ethical lunch.”
Well fancy that. Better food for better people. Not only is posh people’s food more expensive than ours, it also makes them morally superior to us in every conceivable way and means they have no need to feel guilty about anything whatsoever.
Indeed why bother with messy old politics or silliness like redistributing wealth? Just do lunch instead darling! Truly, these organics are wonderfoods.
As for that cheap bag of Tesco’s Value carrots you feed your children… What better symbol could there be of the moral decline sweeping the country and especially its gang-ridden council estates. If only they ate local and organic…
Can it be long now before we find David Cameron delivering a key note speech from the wheel chair acccess ramp of the Notting Hill branch of Fresh and Wild, flanked by his eco-Nazi pin-up sidekick Zac Goldsmith, spelling out the contribution of Kenyan grown runner beans to “the Broken Society”?
Back in Seven, Mark also visits The Full Moon Bar at Stokes Croft. And what d’you know? It’s organic, vegetarian and vastly superior to your scummy local:
“And if that wasn’t enough, even the coffee is organic and Fairtrade. If only more Bristol pubs went to these lengths – it really makes a difference.”
What fucking difference does it make exactly? Beyond making a few wealthy people feel a bit better about themselves and their swanky conspicuous consumption because they buy their vegetables of some toff hobby farmer in the Cotswolds?