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Flesh – the politically-incorrect restaurant

A weekly column reproduced from the Bristol Evening Post


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I’ve decided to go into the restaurant business. Well everyone else is. Not a day passes without another poor sap sinking his life savings into a Polynesian-Irish theme bar somewhere in town.

But my establishment will be different. It will be Bristol’s first politically-incorrect restaurant. I think I’ll call it “Flesh.”

We’ll serve all those things that are frowned upon. Bear sausages, dog ham, white veal and that latest delicacy, blue chicken.

And I’ve come up with a cracking special for opening night. Phoenix the calf, cooked by Marco Pierre White. With caramelised onions. Mmmm, nice!

If you ever doubted the insanity of Mr Blah’s Government, the Phoenix saga summed it up. An instant U-turn in a fundamental policy that had already caused hardship and misery to hundreds of thousands of people, and all because a picture of a pretty baby cow was on Page One of the newspapers. Pathetic. Absolutely, stomach-churningly pathetic.

If it was right in the first place to slaughter millions of healthy animals unaffected by foot and mouth, then it was still right after the TV cameras descended on Phoenix the calf. Who’s running this country? NuLabour or The Richard and Judy show?

We are governed by a bunch of gutless opportunists who are more concerned with style than substance. Worse than that, you’re about to elect them again. Oh yes you are. It’s enough to make a cat laugh.

And, just when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, Michael Meacher now wants to use napalm to dispose of animal carcasses. What nonsense. The RAF can’t land a bomb on Baghdad airport, never mind pick out Flossie in the bottom field.


Of course, the foot and mouth epidemic isn’t all bad news. As the compensation money rolls in, a lot of farmers now are finding themselves considerably richer than they ever thought they would be.

They are naturally investing this money wisely and mostly spending it down the pub, rather than frittering it away on new animals and machinery. This makes for a jolly time on a Saturday night, but you do have to be careful not to run over them as they lie prostrate in the lane the next morning.

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