Damn you, Nick Clegg!

I was trying to have a day off a day hard at work lying on a sun lounger reading Paddy’s new book so I can review it for Liberal Democrat Voice.

Stupidly, I checked my phone and saw a tweet from Our Dear Leader. He’d been launching new school food standards to make school dinners healthier:

You can read the new guidance here. It’s pretty good – cutting down on the cheap and easy processed and fried food, more fruit and veg, healthy drinks, no additional salt, no crisps and the like. This is all, of course, to go along with his flagship policy of free school meals for the first 3 years for all children, something which has been proven to help learning and social skills.

Anyway, that wasn’t enough for the Cleggster. He had to incite us into nostalgia, didn’t he?

So now, rather than doing my hard work, I am thinking about Mrs Ralph, Mrs Scott and Mrs Haines, our Dinner Ladies at Bishop Eden’s School 40 years ago. I’m thinking about the mince, tattoos and dumplings we used to get. The steamed puddings with thick, flavoursome custard, the jelly with little swirls of Dream Topping. And then someone made it worse and reminded me of something I’d forgotten:

We used to get that too. Little vinegary, earthy cubes of beetroot and roast potatoes that were technically imperfect, soggy outside and fluffy inside, but, boy were they delicious. Having been schooled in the ways of the Almighty Delia Smith, my roast potatoes are much better, but I don’t love them as much as these childhood ones, which I’ll never be able to recreate. Before you get to thinking that everything at Bishop Eden’s was delicious, by the way, they went through a phase of doing the thinnest, most horrible tomato soup imaginable and the vilest orange flavoured custard.

Some of the replies to Nick’s tweet are, shall we say, predictable. Others are quite amusing: What sort of fancy school did Hannah Bettsworth go to in Aberdeen?

Letting this one in because it is quite funny:

Although, as we know, more kids from deprived backgrounds are going to university and paying back less per month than they were before. I thought Mike Bird had more class than this, but he made me laugh:

I don’t often get cross with our Press Office, but I am this time. They thought it would be funny to tweet “Bacon sarnie” and post with it that photo of Ed Miliband eating that bacon roll during the Euro campaign. For me that whole episode just emphasised the paucity of political debate in this country. Nobody can eat  anything with 100% decorum and to photograph them doing so (and, to be fair, putting him in that position) is cruel.

But the fact that I am thinking about beefsteak pie and mashed potatoes, or the delicious oaty rolls that went along with the vegetable soup is intensely irritating, distracting and entirely #nickcleggsfault. Or the lovely fish that had been ruskolined to death and cooked in fat that wasn’t hot enough. Those, actually, were the days. And when you think about the meals, you also think about the people you shared them with. The magic of social media has meant I’m still in touch with some of them.

Not for the first time recently, I reflect on the weirdness of the human brain. I am more than capable of forgetting what I went upstairs for, yet put I love 1980 on the telly, and I find I’m still word perfect on Starmaker from the Kids from Fame. And a quick joke from a Deputy Prime Minister reminds me of the sights, sounds and smells of four decades ago.

About caronlindsay

Scottish Lib Dem internationalist, mum, LGBT+ ally, Doctor Who, Strictly, F1 and trashy tv addict and blogger. Servant to two spaniels. She/her.
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1 Response to Damn you, Nick Clegg!

  1. Clegg in the style of Proust?


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