Chirac jokes about British food!

Chirac jokes about British food!

Now that is just not on.

I am continually vexxed by the bad reputation of British food.

It is continually derided by continentals who have not even experienced the worst of their own cuisine.

For example. I have had a stale cheese bagguette in Paris with some rubber-like cheese.
Is this indicative of the national cuisine of France?

No. Then why do people refer to greasy spoons and street stalls in the UK when they talk about British cusine?

I think that it all stems from the British tendancy to love foreign food.
Yes, the ignorance of the world is mostly our own damn fault.
As we are all eating in Curry houses, Italian or French restaurants, and in doing so are neglecting the wonderfully diverse and vibrant food culture that our own country has developed over the centuries.
And this ignorance is seen abroad as indicative of a people who hate their own cusine.

The French go on, endlessly, about how wonderful their cusine is.
So do the Italians.
And yes their food is good. And distinctive.
But so is British cusine!
We have many fine cheeses.
We have many varieties of fine sausage. [over 400!]
We have many fine savoury pies.

It may not be haute cusine but this is because British food has always been exemplified as the food of the common man.
In such a class-ridden society food has been the great equalizer.
haute cusine by its very name is for an elitist society. Food preserved for and by an elite few.

But, bangers and mash, wether it be made by my gran, or by a 3 star michelin rated chef [Albeit described as Richly creamed Kerrs Pinks potatoes with housemade traditional rosmary Lincolnshire sausages accompanied by a port and roasted red onion gravy] is still the same food.

The difference between the classes has always been about presentation rather than content.

A traditional roast dinner in poor families would be a single course.
In rich families it could reach five or six courses. [And the volumes in poorer families would also naturally be less]

When asked what I miss most about the UK I invariably say “The food!” and get a lot of surprised looks. But this is defintely the case.
I long for a meat and potato pie.
I yearn for black pudding.
I have dreams about faggots and chips.

I have made my culinary bed by emigrating and so must lie in it.
But please do not think that British food is inferior because it is not.
And views that it is are just plain biggoted.

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