Aquest article no està traduït al català; es mostra la seva versió en anglès

On British food labels


Possibly because I spent two whole weeks in England this year, instead of the usual one, I noticed for the first time that just about everything comestible there is labelled with adjectives as cute as they are hard to swallow. The sticker on a Tesco's 'French sausage', for example, told me that it was 'traditional, coarse cut and dry cured'. Which particular tradition? Just how coarse was that cutting? Sainsbury's goes one step further and, not content with informing us that their 'British jester tomatoes' are 'from the vine' (and not from the chicken coop or the tomato tree), adds that this product was 'discovered' in the 'Far East' by someone called Bernard Sparkes. Now, why would anyone in their right mind want to know that? Worse still, staples as familiar to the British public as crisps and pork pies have now become, respectively: 'generous slices, cooked by hand', and 'rich pastry filled with seasoned, cured pork'. Dry cured, perhaps? Even pub menus have joined the adjectival bandwagon, offering things like Caesar salad with 'shaved parmesan cheese'. Shaved where?
May the Lord and all his angels keep this kind of verbal flim-flam out of Catalonia, where, like the local saying says, bread is bread and wine is wine. I punt. I have no idea why such baloney has proliferated so on English labels, but one thing's for sure: every time I go to London, after just a couple of days of eating the overwhelmingly adjectivised food which it is almost impossible to avoid there, I invariably get a violent attack of the squits that puts me off my beer, irritates my girlfriend and ends up ruining the holiday.

- Textos i contingut: Matthew Tree - Disseny i programació: Nac -