This time, when I visited the UK, I got all my things out of the country. The Brexit vote introduces the risk of civil disorder, both between the Brexiters and the rational, and from Northern Ireland. Disorder is very unlikely, I admit, let alone where I’d left my things, but since I have no need to leave them there, I retrieved them.
Still, I took full advantage of my visit and bought some things I can’t buy here. One such thing is decent cheddar. You can buy cheddar on the continent, but it’s usually pretty shite compared to what’s available in the UK, just as the brie sold in blighty is dismal compared to the good stuff found here.
The real surprise is the Aldi vintage west country cheddar (not sold on their web site, unfortunately). It is absolutely gorgeous, the best I’ve tasted for a very long time. It’s not quite Neal’s Yard quality, but I’ve had worse from them (and a lot let better).
Aldi and Lidl are interesting stores. They hardly ever market themselves; they do not need to. This means peoples’ reactions to the names says a lot about those people. I’m always amused at those who sneer (“Lidl and Aldi sell cheap crap to poor people”): it tells me such people haven’t been there, that they put marketing ahead of quality, class ahead of value. I find myself wondering if I can also convince them of something silly that’s to my advantage: perhaps I should offer them a good deal on some high quality scrap iron awaiting collection from the middle of Paris.
But, of course, marketing is invidious. No one is immune to its lies. There will be areas where these propagandists have snuck their lies into me, and I don’t realise it. So I shouldn’t gloat at people who sneer at Lidl and Aldi—but I do. What a bunch of suckers! Which reminds me, did someone mention some scrap iron for sale in the middle of Brooklyn … .