own. Even high-profile ambassadors for Britain’s revitalized food culture such as Jamie Oliver can’t escape the sneers and curled lips. Mr Oliver complains that when he travels abroad, he frequently ends up listening to people bad-mouthing British food. ‘You go on Jay Leno [a US talk show] for the third time and he’s still making cracks about shitty English food.’ The British take it particularly badly when Americans criticize our food. It feels like a best friend swapping sides and ganging up with the enemy – that’s France, Italy and any other country that outshines us on the gastronomic front.
Britain becomes tetchy very easily when negative comparisons are made with countries that have thriving food cultures, using attack as a form of self-defence. This sideswipe at Italian food, from the Daily Telegraph’s restaurant critic, Jan Moir, is a classic example. She took exception to chef Antonio Carluccio pointing out that Italian labourers eat truffles – an illustration of how good food in Italy is regarded as a democratic entitlement, enjoyed by all social classes.
‘Really, stuff like this does get tiresome. We all know about the excellence and seasonality of Italian food, but every time I go to Italy, the supermarkets there are full of the same old rubbish that they sell here, but we’re always led to believe that every grotty little shepherd is dining like a king on heavenly risottos and garlic-infused baby lambs, while ignorant John Bull has to make do with boiled hoof and carrots because he knows no better.’
In contrast to such defensiveness, our king in waiting, His Royal Highness, Charles, Prince of Wales, has accepted that Britain does have a serious problem with what it eats:
‘Over the last two generations we have managed to create a nation of fast food junkies to whom food, often processed by industrialised farming systems, is nothing but fuel. The result is a growing obesity and health problem and a disconnection in the minds of too many people between the food on their plate and where and how it is produced.’
Whether or not we choose to face up to it, Britain has always had a particular credibility problem in convincing the rest of the world of its culinary credentials, and that perception has not substantially shifted. Viewed from outside its borders, Britain is a strange and aberrant country, a cultural exception in Europe, and second only to the US in its capacity to shock outsiders with its eating habits. As one Chinese writer, looking forward to his first trip to London, told the Guardian: ‘I’ve tasted an English breakfast but otherwise I’ve heard the food is awful.’
So common are the negative perceptions of British food abroad that bodies charged with attracting visitors to the UK are well-rehearsed in fielding them. The British Council in Japan, for instance, has a website aimed at students who are considering studying in Britain. The site has a Frequently Asked Questions section: Question number 3 (following questions about the cost of study and the weather) deals with what is clearly one of the biggest disincentives to people contemplating visiting, studying or working in the UK:
Q: ‘I’ve heard that British food is boring. Will I be able to find the sort of food that I like?’
A: ‘Britain used to have a bad reputation as far as food is concerned. This has changed dramatically. Britain is a land of lovers of good food. As well as traditional British food which is currently seeing a revival after years of neglect, Indian, French, Greek, Chinese, Italian, Malaysian, Turkish, Mexican and many other ethnic restaurants can be widely found. Japanese food has become popular in Britain during the last few years. There are even kaiten-zushi bars in London!’
While more optimistic potential students might feel reassured, the more cynical might interpret the sub-text as follows: ‘Take it on trust from us that the ghastly things you have heard about British food no longer apply, but just in case you don’t believe us, let us reassure you that there are lots of other cuisines to go for. And if you don’t fancy those, there’s always sushi – in London at least.’
Foreign students contemplating taking a course at the University of Oxford are likewise pre-warned as to what to expect:
‘British food does not have a good reputation overseas. However, there is in fact a very wide variety available, both traditional British food and international cuisine, especially in bigger cities. There are many fresh ingredients which are delicious when cooked well. However, many busy people don’t pay much attention to preparing food well and prefer instant meals.’
Of course, it is only natural for foreign nationals to be attached to their own cuisine, to cling on to what they know and even be somewhat suspicious of the food they might encounter when they travel abroad. But the fact remains that British food continues to be notorious worldwide. When Malaysia Tatler magazine sent a reviewer to sample the British food at the Ivy restaurant in Kuala Lumpur (no relation to the eponymous London establishment) in 2005, she enjoyed chicken with Stilton and leek, but queried whether it could really be a British dish, as she was ‘surprised that something as tasty could come from there [Britain]’. As Malaysia Tatler pointed out: ‘The British have given many things to the world – television, the steam train, even the internet … But nowhere, on any listing of the island’s achievements will you find the phrase “culinary finesse”.’
In 2003, the results of a survey of Polish attitudes towards British food were almost universally negative –108 out of 111 responses. A great many critical comments were recorded, including: ‘tasteless’, ‘unhealthy’, ‘lot of fat’, ‘not many vegetables’, ‘cheap’, ‘industrial’, ‘no specific cuisine’, ‘no traditional food’, ‘not nutritious’ and ‘no good bread’. Indeed, there was repeated amazement at the state of British bread. ‘They [the British] don’t eat normal bread, only tosty’ [white sliced bread],’ one respondent expanded. The existence of vinegar-flavoured crisps raised eyebrows too. Many people commented on the proliferation of fast food and the lack of home cooking in the UK. The problem, concluded one respondent, was that ‘the British don’t really know what good food tastes like’. Another opined that ‘if British people can survive their cooking they can survive anything’.
Speak to people of diverse foreign origins who live or work in the UK, and it will quickly become evident that food is one of their biggest obsessions. Wherever they come from, they pick out habits and customs that strike them as incomprehensible and strange, even though they are considered unremarkable by many natives. Most preface their opinions diplomatically with the things they really like about Britain – more personal freedom to live your life as you want being the compliment that crops up most frequently. But when it comes to food, the floodgates open. One German student told me:
‘When I moved to London from Berlin, my first experience of British food was on the boat from Dunkirk to Ramsgate. We wanted to eat something and waiting in the queue I saw them serving lasagne with chips and peas. I just felt so shocked by that, I left the queue and didn’t eat anything, thinking that I really couldn’t cope with this kind of food. The idea of eating chips with lasagne!’
That hoary old stereotype – chips with everything – still crops up regularly in outsiders’ images of British food. The traditional fish supper, in particular, described by Egon Ronay as Britain’s ‘most distinctive contribution to world cuisine’, finds few admirers; on the contrary, most people from abroad are bemused by Britain’s fondness for what they see as an unappetizingly greasy meal, served without knives and forks and eaten from dirty newspaper.
