Alexander Chancellor and Sarah Lyall
Long Live the Queen
By Sarah Lyall
Posted Tuesday, Feb. 15, 2000, at 10:43 AM ETGood morning, Alexander.
I have been dutifully ploughing through all the various front pages this morning, and have turned up many delightful stories. In the Guardian, we have "Labour to Raise Minimum Wage." The Financial Times goes with "Sara Lee in 104 Million Pound Offer for Courtaulds," while the Telegraph has "Prescott To Press for VAT Levy on New Houses." Germane topics all, particularly the Sara Lee story: I always like to keep abreast with what's going on in the world of cake and, of course, the wider world of pastries. Have you tried their frozen coffee cake with the pecans and the frosting? You can get it at some, but not all, of the food emporia in London, if you look in the freezer section. Shove it in the microwave for 30 seconds, smother it with butter, and you will no longer be able to have any sort of discussion at the breakfast table, so full will your mouth be of coffee cake at all times.
But what I would most like to discuss this morning is the story that leads the Express--a paper that, as far as I can tell, is desperately trying to play with the big boys and boost its flagging circulation--called "Labour Turns on Maverick Charles." No, no, it's not about how Charles is titillated by the Labor government. It's the opposite. The gist is this: The Labor government, which once really liked Prince Charles (why? I cannot imagine) has now changed its mind. After listening with increasing alarm to Charles' unwelcome pronouncements on things he has no business discussing, like the Millennium Dome (he hates it) and fox hunting (he loves it, and of course it's a big talking point when he gets together with Camilla the Royal Mistress), the Labor government has decided that on no account should Charles take on any of his aged mother's royal responsibilities when she gets even older than she is now. How old is she? 75? 100? I can't remember. In fact, when the Queen dies, the government would almost be inclined to try the John McCain approach: Prop her up and keep her on the throne. Maybe they've done that already. It's hard to tell.
In any case, the Labor government is worried about the terrifying prospect of Charles' becoming king and spewing out all kinds of nonsense about anything that suddenly strikes his strange little mind. It is so worried, in fact, that none of the top Labor officials quoted in the story will agree to be identified by name by the intrepid reporters, Robert Jobson and Patrick O'Flynn. So we have a series of "senior sources" saying things like "Let's face it, the Prince of Wales brings with him an awful lot of baggage. He seems to want the best of both worlds, taking pot shots at the government from his privileged position at every opportunity," and "he is regarded now as a constitutional time bomb."
My question is: How many of these quotes were from different senior sources, and how many of them were from the same one, being quoted again and again, the ploy disguised to make it seem as if the reporters had actually talked to a lot of different people and done a lot of work, instead of taking dictation from one Charles-hating guy? And how many of these quotes do you think Robert Jobson and Patrick O'Flynn made up themselves?
On the issue of making up quotes, what do you think about the Afghan hostage from the hijacked plane last week who was quoted in the papers today as saying, anonymously, as he landed in the bustling metropolis of Kandahar, Afghanistan, that he was glad to get out of Britain because not only is Britain an "infidel" country, but also "the weather was depressing and the food was awful"? The quote was on the Reuters wire yesterday, and yes, I used it in my story about the hijacking today. But it strikes me as one of those things where the reporter may well have said, "And did you find the weather depressing and the food awful?" to which the Afghan, who hadn't really thought about it much, may well have answered, "Yes."
xxx sarah
Long Live the Queen
By Sarah Lyall
Posted Tuesday, Feb. 15, 2000, at 10:43 AM ETAlexander Chancellor writes Slate's “International Papers” and a column for the Guardian. Sarah Lyall is a reporter in the London bureau of the New York Times. Highlights from The Fray:
I'm somewhat stupefied over the choice that your magazine made regarding this week's Breakfast Table. Frankly, as an American political junkie, I find it unfathomable that, with one of the most exciting, compelling presidential primary weeks in recent electoral history upon us, you saw fit to have as your Breakfast Table guests this week two expatriates who spent their time debating the fascinating details of British table condiments.
--Lonnie W. Neubauer
(To reply, click
here.)
(But not everyone agreed -
Doug Richardson
replied that
A dollop of painless prattle about condiments is becoming, day by day, more appetizing than the great trough of swill served up by the four cretins who have captivated every marginally literate person with a word processor--I look to Slate for a little of everything on my plate.
And other Fraygrants were happy to deal with the whole wide range of Breakfast Table subjects:)
It's nice to find amidst the stuff about ketchup, Americanisms, Bush vs McCain, and salad cream, an admission of the problems of the British National Health system [Wednesday's entry]. Throughout the great healthcare "debate" of 1992-1994 we were told over and over again that the single-payer system was the way to go, with Britain and Canada cited admiringly. Now who's ready to admit that rationing would be necessary in any kind of scheme to extend healthcare to everyone in the U.S.?
--Edward Brynes
(To reply, click
here.)
To Edward Brynes:
Don't you think that the current American health-care system rations access? It is, in practice, unavailable to approximately 43 million people.
--June Thomas
(To reply, click
here.)
In reply:
Medical care is not actually unavailable to people without insurance, but certainly it is very costly. That's not the same situation as rationing, which to me implies a deliberate policy of allocating treatment according to medical need and feasibility of treatment.
Normally someone in the U.S. with insurance coverage is assured abundant care and little waiting even if there is reason to believe that with all the care in the world he or she won't live more than a few months anyway or will live a greatly impaired life. There is a different philosophy in Britain. Many people, not heartless monsters, have asked what value there can be in maintaining, by complex expensive technology, people in such a situation. Rationing has the effect of freeing up resources.
--Edward Brynes
(To reply, click
here.)
Norway is not a member of the European Union [Tuesday's entry].
--Marian
(To reply, click
here.)
What I've always wanted to know is: Is catsup the same as ketchup? [Wednesday's entry] I've always had a suspicion that catsup was more "U" than ketchup - wasn't there a British, ie non-Heinz variety, called catsup in the '50s? Don't know what the fuss is about salad cream, incidentally. It's just bottled mayonnaise--not very good mayonnaise, sure, but that's not the point. The point is the name; you wouldn't have got my Mum buying something called mayonnaise, but salad cream was nice and homely.
--michael elliott
(To reply, click
here.)
This is a dreadful error of culinary history: no the British did NOT invent catsup. Like many things adopted during the Imperial years, it is an Indian condiment. I have read various spellings of the word, but "ketchep" will do. It is a kind of chutney, not always tomato, but sweet rather than hot, like lemon pickle. My favorite recipe is one that uses sweet red peppers, roasted, skinned, and macerated into a pulp which is then simmered with vinegar, sultanas, onion, garlic, ginger, cardamom, and cinnamon. My private joke is to then blend it all (not really authentic) and serve it with an East Indian meal, in a Heinz pourable catsup bottle. It is just a bit more orange, but no one notices. It tastes nothing like the American product of course, and is tangy and delicious. Bon Appétit!
--Apollonius
(To reply, click
here.)
(2/18)
St. Valentine [Monday's entry] is the patron saint of MESSAGES, because while he was imprisoned he threw little messages out of his cell to cheer up the Christians. Hence St. Valentine's Day is a day to send messages to those important to you. Since the Christian message is "Jesus loves you" and "see how they love one another" and so on, "love" notes come immediately to mind. Since we use only one word for all of the kinds of love (unlike the Greeks), and since we needed a February holiday to buy cards and gifts for (really, study the history of Valentine cards), the target for and meaning of the Valentine changed to more physical ones. The arrows business may come from St. Valentine's execution by being shot through the heart with many arrows.
--tony zapf
(To reply, click
here.)
(2/15)
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Highlights from The Fray:
I'm somewhat stupefied over the choice that your magazine made regarding this week's Breakfast Table. Frankly, as an American political junkie, I find it unfathomable that, with one of the most exciting, compelling presidential primary weeks in recent electoral history upon us, you saw fit to have as your Breakfast Table guests this week two expatriates who spent their time debating the fascinating details of British table condiments.
--Lonnie W. Neubauer
(To reply, click here.)
(But not everyone agreed - Doug Richardson replied that
A dollop of painless prattle about condiments is becoming, day by day, more appetizing than the great trough of swill served up by the four cretins who have captivated every marginally literate person with a word processor--I look to Slate for a little of everything on my plate.
And other Fraygrants were happy to deal with the whole wide range of Breakfast Table subjects:)
It's nice to find amidst the stuff about ketchup, Americanisms, Bush vs McCain, and salad cream, an admission of the problems of the British National Health system [Wednesday's entry]. Throughout the great healthcare "debate" of 1992-1994 we were told over and over again that the single-payer system was the way to go, with Britain and Canada cited admiringly. Now who's ready to admit that rationing would be necessary in any kind of scheme to extend healthcare to everyone in the U.S.?
--Edward Brynes
(To reply, click here.)
To Edward Brynes:
Don't you think that the current American health-care system rations access? It is, in practice, unavailable to approximately 43 million people.
--June Thomas
(To reply, click here.)
In reply:
Medical care is not actually unavailable to people without insurance, but certainly it is very costly. That's not the same situation as rationing, which to me implies a deliberate policy of allocating treatment according to medical need and feasibility of treatment.
Normally someone in the U.S. with insurance coverage is assured abundant care and little waiting even if there is reason to believe that with all the care in the world he or she won't live more than a few months anyway or will live a greatly impaired life. There is a different philosophy in Britain. Many people, not heartless monsters, have asked what value there can be in maintaining, by complex expensive technology, people in such a situation. Rationing has the effect of freeing up resources.
--Edward Brynes
(To reply, click here.)
Norway is not a member of the European Union [Tuesday's entry].
--Marian
(To reply, click here.)
What I've always wanted to know is: Is catsup the same as ketchup? [Wednesday's entry] I've always had a suspicion that catsup was more "U" than ketchup - wasn't there a British, ie non-Heinz variety, called catsup in the '50s? Don't know what the fuss is about salad cream, incidentally. It's just bottled mayonnaise--not very good mayonnaise, sure, but that's not the point. The point is the name; you wouldn't have got my Mum buying something called mayonnaise, but salad cream was nice and homely.
--michael elliott
(To reply, click here.)
This is a dreadful error of culinary history: no the British did NOT invent catsup. Like many things adopted during the Imperial years, it is an Indian condiment. I have read various spellings of the word, but "ketchep" will do. It is a kind of chutney, not always tomato, but sweet rather than hot, like lemon pickle. My favorite recipe is one that uses sweet red peppers, roasted, skinned, and macerated into a pulp which is then simmered with vinegar, sultanas, onion, garlic, ginger, cardamom, and cinnamon. My private joke is to then blend it all (not really authentic) and serve it with an East Indian meal, in a Heinz pourable catsup bottle. It is just a bit more orange, but no one notices. It tastes nothing like the American product of course, and is tangy and delicious. Bon Appétit!
--Apollonius
(To reply, click here.)
(2/18)
St. Valentine [Monday's entry] is the patron saint of MESSAGES, because while he was imprisoned he threw little messages out of his cell to cheer up the Christians. Hence St. Valentine's Day is a day to send messages to those important to you. Since the Christian message is "Jesus loves you" and "see how they love one another" and so on, "love" notes come immediately to mind. Since we use only one word for all of the kinds of love (unlike the Greeks), and since we needed a February holiday to buy cards and gifts for (really, study the history of Valentine cards), the target for and meaning of the Valentine changed to more physical ones. The arrows business may come from St. Valentine's execution by being shot through the heart with many arrows.
--tony zapf
(To reply, click here.)
(2/15)