Peel Here

I'm standing in the deli section of a well-known supermarket store. “Something for lunch, something for lunch...” I murmur. Once again I wanted something for Friday's lunch. Something that was possibly reduced and appealing. What can I eat in half an hour? I scan the shelves, my eyes falling on a reduced cous cous salad. That'll do. I'll just check the ingredients. I check all sides of the transparent container searching for the list. “It must be underneath”, I mutter. Holding it up, I spot a label. Peel Here it says.

Have you ever tried peeling here when you're holding the item above you? It's infuriatingly impossible. What is this? A dexterous challenge to buying food? It makes you look very unhinged, furiously clawing at the packaging. Usually I give up and fling the product back, to continue the hunt elsewhere. Suitable for veggies it said, so this time I chose to believe it. Short of cash, the reduced sticker was too big a plus to miss out on. In this case, my instinct paid off, but even out of the shop peeling the label was a good ten minute job.

So how did I do it you're wondering... The container now positioned upside down, I tried to prise open the label. Even with my slender fingers and thumb it wouldn't budge, so I carefully peeled the whole label off the packaging. It was only once I stuck it to a sheet of plain paper, I could achieve the needed manoeuvre. With a pincher-like grip I successfully peeled and read the ingredients. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was fine. Friday's lunch officially sorted.

Yes, I confess I'm one of those shoppers. I want to know the contents and nutritional info. Being veggie has very little to do with it. This is an act of personal responsibility for my health. I won't put blind faith in the manufacturers. Take their description at face value. Do they purposely make it difficult to assess this in-store? Believing our senses will be so tantalized with appearance we'll just throw it in the basket. Is that what the majority do?

Packaging size and the amount of info required by law is often the excuse. This to me is not good enough. Peel here labels suggests a very long list of ingredients, with too much sugar, salt and fat. This isn't always the case, but if the manufacturers want to lose out so be it. If it's nutritionally dubious, improve it. Why sell something that's as nutritious as sawdust or packs in way too many calories, additives and E numbers?

The public is bored and annoyed with this branded secrecy. Manufacturers, be upfront with consumers. All we want is clear product labels, which can be easily read without any faffing about.

 

Finger In Too Many Pies

What makes you squeamish? Blood and guts, pus, vomit, the dentist's chair, drills and needles, or the overpowering smell of decay. Maybe it's bugs, even ones so microscopic you can't see them. Me? A single letter of the alphabet sums it up. The letter my name is shortened to. The capitol letter H. Hands and Hygiene. H-classified areas guaranteed to make me say “Yuck!” or feel faint. Before I pass out I'll delve deeper...

We all have our own yuck-meter. A personal measure of “It freaks me out!” Bothered by or unable to observe some things more than others. What governs this I wonder... Blood or needles are typical “I feel faint” culprits, but these have never fazed me. Poor hygiene is my bugbear. I hate feeling grubby. Clean hands, my number one rule if you want to come anywhere near me. Everyone washes their hands don't they? Hmmm, depends what you mean by wash. A quick splash, no soap the majority. Believe me, I've seen this plenty.

The thought of where hands might have been often puts me off tinned or cook-chilled food. In my mind's eye, all I see are factory floors with big vats of ingredients. Soups, stews, and sauces bubbling away. Workers clothed in white and hairnets, focused on their roles. Peeling, chopping, sorting, overseeing the production line... A seamless operation of quality control. Why for me does this rate high on my yuck conveyor belt? I think it's the number of hands food goes through, even with gloves and machinery. The menacing image of Sweeney Todd overshadowing the positive. Do we really know what we might be eating?

I understand the need for manufacturing, especially today. Many hands make light work as they say. We all benefit from this process in some way. A packaged sandwich, sausage roll, or tinned spaghetti hoops. All churned out quick, and it's this that makes me nauseous. Have we gone a step too far in what we manufacture? More convenient to grab and buy, than make your own at home. Are we giving manufacturers too much trust in the hygiene and safety stakes? HACCP is by no means a guarantee. There's too many fingers in too many pies for my liking.

Is there a way to avoid this? No, afraid not. It's impossible. You could not eat out, cook only from scratch, and boycott all processed goods. If the thought of this is making you giddy, then take my advice: keep it simple. Wash your hands, don't think, and for God's sake don't watch Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares!

Crunch Time

Crrrunch! Why are ginger biscuits so hard? Incoming thoughts paused to savour this gingery treat. Hmmm, nom-nom.... My brain chooses to rudely interrupt my tea break. Biscuits, the perfect introduction to this piece. I wipe the crumbs off my chin and top. Mucky pup I think, and with a swig of tea begin to type...

The Vegetarian Society member's discount list reminds me a lot of biscuits. A variety of veggie-friendly businesses in the UK and beyond offering a discount on a product or service. A selection of food stores, restaurants, holidays, activities and cosmetic goods. A bonus to being a member, or is it? How many of us actually use it? My card is always on me, tucked away in my purse gathering dust. It's not that I haven't attempted or don't want to use it, I do. Who doesn't like a few pence knocked off? Getting a bargain gives you a high.

I can count on one hand the number of times I've benefited. Two places in a nearby town I can rely on to give me my due, and they're not ashamed to promote it. My recent attempts to use in a large chain have however been thwarted. I won't hold back – I'll name them... The repeated offender award goes to Holland & Barrett, the health store giant. I wasn't aware they offered a Veg Soc discount until recently. Thrice I've asked in my local store, shown my card, and been knocked-back. Staff have stated their reasons. You can't use your card if there are discounts in-store. Fair enough, but isn't that most of the time? What if my card gives me a better discount? On each failed attempt I've muttered these words, “That really takes the biscuit!”

Perhaps I'm just unlucky. Shopping in sync with promotions. To ask every time seems pointless. A queue of shuffling feet and coughs forming behind me. I remain pleasant, but pay for my goods and get out. An embarrassment I can forgo. The experience personal to me. Nit picking you might think, but I made a chief observation in my three defeats. I don't want to have to quietly ask at the counter each time. To have the rebuke overheard. Do other Veg Soc members feel the same?

The discount list is a great scheme, but businesses should pledge to be upfront about it. Why the reluctance to making this clear on the premises? I generalise, but couldn't more businesses display a public sign? Veg Soc discount offered or something. If I was an owner I'd be proud to exhibit such a sign. This membership entitlement has reached a crunch time. Don't veggie-friendly establishments want to entice new customers? This critical component left out of the mix is like a ginger biscuit without the fiery hit. The anticipation dies, and disappointment arises instead.

Shopkeepers, take note: Honour and promote your participation in this scheme. Be bold and Veg Soc members will return with repeated custom and free PR!