Kraft Korner
Kraft, the 'food giant', has bought Cadbury, the chocolate company. Any quaint notions you may have of a Willy Wonkaesque set up to make chocolate...is probably not that far off the mark. The Bourneville estate in Birmingham was built by Cadbury in Victorian times so that the workers would have somewhere decent to live. The visionaries at Cadbury realised that rickets-wracked workers consumptively coughing their teeth into the fruit and nut mix was probably A Bad Thing and so built a charming housing estate for them.
I don't know much about Kraft except that they make processed cheese. Processed cheese is one of those stealth phrases that only seems odd when you stop to think about it. What the hell is there to process about cheese? Cheese is, essentially, milk plus time.
OK it's apparent that there's a little more to it than that, and I suppose the magic of processed cheese is getting it to look the same after you peel the cellophane from the slice as it did when it was still in the packaging. Cheese slices (that is, pre-sliced cheese (presumably for people too stupid to be trusted with a knife), individually packaged (presumably for people who are on a mission to convert landfill pits into mountain ranges)) are designed for one purpose only, to go onto the top of a beef patty and make a cheeseburger.
After Kraft bought Cadbury and essentially either sacked all the Umpa Lumpas or sold them into slavery, I won't be buying Cadbury again. Which is a shame, because at Easter, you have your Cadbury cream eggs. At Christmas, you have your Cadbury selection box, with a game on the back and about 7 billion calories in the box itself, best consumed immediately on Christmas morning, giving you the energy to rip off all the wrapping from the presents. And at all times you have a bar of Dairy Milk or Fruit and Nut in the glove box of the car. On the M-Way feeling drowsy? One bar later and you are hard on the bumper of the Porche in front, whooping and honking for him to move over!
So Kraft are, essentially, all about the calories – presumably that’s why they are a ‘food giant’, or at least a food-lard arse. Cadbury are all about love.
Because Cadbury chocolate is love. It's what love tastes like, smooth, creamy and delicious and, just like love, it can lead to funny sensations in the pit of the stomach and induce nausea if abused.
Europeans mock our chocolate. Made with vegetable oil instead of the coca powder it means that Cadbury chocolate is a melt-in-the-mouth luxury sensation, rather than the grudging, bitter excuse for a snack available on the Continent. British chocolate is chocolate for lovers. Foreign chocolate is chocolate for masochists. Aztecs used to use lots of coca in their rituals. A bad bunch who made a habit of gruesome ritual sacrifice, some of this has to be down to eating all that bitter chocolate. If they had access to Dairy Milk they would probably have been a bit more placid. With a diet containing bitter chocolate and coffee, no wonder they were always so bloody bad tempered.
I don't know much about Kraft except that they make processed cheese. Processed cheese is one of those stealth phrases that only seems odd when you stop to think about it. What the hell is there to process about cheese? Cheese is, essentially, milk plus time.
OK it's apparent that there's a little more to it than that, and I suppose the magic of processed cheese is getting it to look the same after you peel the cellophane from the slice as it did when it was still in the packaging. Cheese slices (that is, pre-sliced cheese (presumably for people too stupid to be trusted with a knife), individually packaged (presumably for people who are on a mission to convert landfill pits into mountain ranges)) are designed for one purpose only, to go onto the top of a beef patty and make a cheeseburger.
After Kraft bought Cadbury and essentially either sacked all the Umpa Lumpas or sold them into slavery, I won't be buying Cadbury again. Which is a shame, because at Easter, you have your Cadbury cream eggs. At Christmas, you have your Cadbury selection box, with a game on the back and about 7 billion calories in the box itself, best consumed immediately on Christmas morning, giving you the energy to rip off all the wrapping from the presents. And at all times you have a bar of Dairy Milk or Fruit and Nut in the glove box of the car. On the M-Way feeling drowsy? One bar later and you are hard on the bumper of the Porche in front, whooping and honking for him to move over!
So Kraft are, essentially, all about the calories – presumably that’s why they are a ‘food giant’, or at least a food-lard arse. Cadbury are all about love.
Because Cadbury chocolate is love. It's what love tastes like, smooth, creamy and delicious and, just like love, it can lead to funny sensations in the pit of the stomach and induce nausea if abused.
Europeans mock our chocolate. Made with vegetable oil instead of the coca powder it means that Cadbury chocolate is a melt-in-the-mouth luxury sensation, rather than the grudging, bitter excuse for a snack available on the Continent. British chocolate is chocolate for lovers. Foreign chocolate is chocolate for masochists. Aztecs used to use lots of coca in their rituals. A bad bunch who made a habit of gruesome ritual sacrifice, some of this has to be down to eating all that bitter chocolate. If they had access to Dairy Milk they would probably have been a bit more placid. With a diet containing bitter chocolate and coffee, no wonder they were always so bloody bad tempered.
Labels: Business, Cadbury, Chocolate, Eating out, Food, Kraft foods
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