That wonky feeling
I confess to being puzzled. Nay… surprised. Nay… appalled. Although I knew this fact in a subliminal area of my consciousness, I hadn’t really internalised and fully grasped the implications. The issue is all about wonkiness.
The facts are these: we all know that the UK is in the grip of the driest summer and the worst drought it has experienced in the last 50 years. We’re all doing our best to use less water and there are hosepipe bans in parts of the country.
We also know that this is having a severe impact on farms and the harvest. So now the supermarkets are going to hit us with a really big ask: Can we cope with our fruit and veg looking a little bit different from the ‘perfect’ specimens we have become used to? Apparently a lot of produce has become ‘stunted’ due to less than the usual supply of water during the growth period. So I have learned that two major supermarket chains are taking the bold and unprecedented step of ‘relaxing size and shape guidelines’ for certain ranges of fruit and vegetables.
The word is ‘wonky’. Now reader, I want you to look deep into your soul and see if you can find space for wonky fruit and veg. I can remember a time when that was what food looked like. I do not know at what point and for what reason it was decided that I would prefer all my strawberries, carrots or apples to be the same size, shape and colour. Just when were these ‘guidelines’ introduced, and who decided that they had to exist anyway? Why do we need a separate range of goods entitled ‘A little less than perfect?’ I always thought beauty was in the eye of the beholder, so my idea of perfect no doubt differs from yours.
We are facing a climate crisis of unimaginable proportions, and the heatwave and drought we have experienced are a sign of things to come. Yet what astounds me is that it is assumed that I MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO COPE with a misshapen potato. Let’s get this into perspective; there are parts of the world right now experiencing extreme flooding and wildfires, resulting in people losing their homes and livelihoods. I wonder how they would respond to a searching question regarding their preferred shape of pear.
I propose a consumer backlash. Next time I am in a supermarket I will do my best to seek out the wonkiest food I can find and display it proudly on social media. I might even open an Instagram account specifically to show examples of extreme wonkiness in raw fruit and veg. Then there’s the cookbook: ‘How to cook wonky food’. It will then be a short step to the TV programme. Stand aside MasterChef, you have been superseded. I just need a good presenter. Actually, I wonder if the Beeb would be interested in a special series on The Food Programme?
Once again, we’re all in it together, as the politicians love to say, even though we all know that we aren’t. This time we’re going to bravely cope with the onslaught of wonky foodstuffs, knowing that we will pull through.