reLAKSation 448
Helen Rumbelow writes in the Times that ‘It is one of the most successful indoctrinations in Modern Britain that has filtered into every aspect of public life.’ She says that the bus she gets is decorated with the injunction to eat five-a day. Her son is taught to count at nursery using the Government’s five-a day fruit and vegetable quota, whilst the message is slapped anywhere in the supermarket where it might confer a commercial advantage. She says that we have swallowed the message whole and when we swallow the five-a day, we believe that we gain a magic protection, or at least we did, until the Journal of the National Cancer Institute showed that the reduced risk of cancer by eating five-a day amounted to nothing.
Tim Lang , Professor of Food at City University said that he was not surprised by the results since the five-a-day message was not based on hard science. Instead, the figure five was chosen because it was a nice round figure and because, given the low consumption of fruit and vegetables, it seemed achievable. The five-a-day message was originally conceived in the US as a marketing gimmick and where it has now dropped completely off the consumer radar.
Whilst, the science behind the five-a day message may be suspect, there have been numerous studies as to the benefits of eating oily fish, yet the two-a-week message does not appear to be working. SeaFish have recently warned consumers that they must increase their intake of oil rich fish if they are to achieve a healthy balanced diet. The Food Standards Agency have revealed that consumption of oily fish is especially low at just 8g a day whilst SeaFish found that less than half of Britons knew that they should be eating two portions of seafood a week, one of which should be oily fish. Even less, just a third of Britons, manages to consume the recommended two portions. This is despite regular promotional campaigns such as the National Seafood Week that push the two-a-week message to consumers.
Something is clearly not right.
The fundamental problem is that many Britons simply are not interested in eating fish unless it is a whitefish that has been battered and served with chips. Survey after survey has shown that many consumers shy away from fish because they are deterred by the fishy smell, the fins, the scales and bones. They also have no idea as to what to do with it. These consumers never go near the fish counter so never see the promotional material advocating the two-a-week message. The only consumers to see these messages are those that are already confirmed fish eaters. This is not surprising since it is much easier to persuade existing fish consumers to eat more fish than to persuade those who never eat fish to start doing so. As an industry, we should therefore not be that surprised when the statistics indicate that that average consumption levels of oily fish are so low.
Lucy Mangan, a columnist for the Observer newspaper, recently recounted an incident that should make the fish and seafood industry start to think about how they take their message to consumers. Whilst out shopping, she had to pause for a moment when the supermarket fishmonger asked her how fish is cooked! Lucy’s account of what happened to her makes difficult reading and so is reproduced in this mailing.
What is clear is that an isolated campaign to promote two-a week is not going to convince consumers to eat more oily fish. Certainly, it doesn’t seem to have worked yet. Instead, a more market-led strategy, producing the type of products that consumers want to eat, is likely to have a better chance of success. For example, the higher fat foods that many consumers eat today could be substituted with foods that are high in fish oils instead. Everyday, the national bakery chain, ‘Greggs’ (www.greggs.co.uk/) has queues of customer buying a pasty for lunch from a choice of Cornish pasties, steak, chicken, sausage or cheese and onion. Why not a fish pasty? There are a number of recipes including one from celebrity chef Rick Stein but a simple variation using salmon has been devised by Chef Jo Pratt (http://uktv.co.uk/food/recipe/aid/515022 ). It’s about putting fish into the products that consumers already eat. Once consumers find that fish is not such a bad choice, they may be more receptive to other fish products.
Cornish Pasty (Greggs Bakery)
Salmon & Dill pasties
Ingredients
375g ready rolled puff pasty
2 salmon fillets about150g each
Salt & pepper
2 tbsp shop bought mustard & dill sauce (Sainsbury’s 200g £1.79/ Waitrose 170g £1.55)
4 spring onions
1 egg beaten
Method
Unroll pastry and cut in half.
Place salmon in centre of each half and season with salt & pepper
Spread the sauce over each fillet
Bring edges of pastry over and fold and pinch to form a seam like a Cornish pasty
Place on lightly greased baking sheet and brush each pasty with beaten egg
Bake at 200oC/gas 6 for 25 minutes until golden.
Salmon & dill pasty
Lucy Mangan: Here's a fishy piece of advice
I must confess I paused for a moment when the supermarket fishmonger asked me how fish is cooked
20th March 2010 Guardian weekend magazine
I was walking round the supermarket the other day, minding my own business, And then I came to the fish counter, and thought: "I'll buy some fish." I do that sometimes, and often at fish counters.
I smiled at the girl – she was a girl, maybe 17 or 18 – and pointed to some tilapia.
"One of those fillets, please," I said.
She took hold of it, weighed it, priced it and wrapped it. And as she handed it back to me, she said, "How do you cook fish?"
I confess I paused for a moment. I mean, that's a big question, even when you're prepared for it. And I wasn't. I don't know exactly how much specialist knowledge I habitually assume my local supermarket fishmongers possess – although I suspect that my expectations aren't high – but I think it does squeak into the category "some". Her question suggested that I had been overoptimistic.
"It's just," she continued into my silence, "I eat a lot of beef and lamb and... beef and stuff, and I thought I should... eat more fish."
You know what? It's midweek, mid-afternoon, the shop is empty and I don't have a proper job. I've got time.
"I'm no expert," I said. "I don't even know how to pronounce tilapia. But you cook different fish different ways."
"Like what?"
"Well, basically, if it's a chunky white fish – like that cod, there – no, the cod. There. You can steam it. If it's a whole fish, you can bake it. But generally, if it's a fillet with a skin, I fry it."
"In what?" she said, with interest.
"A bit of olive oil. Or butter."
"And what's a fillet?"
I confess I paused for another moment.
"It's... sort of... the side of the fish, taken off the body."
"I don't get it."
"OK. Look at that salmon, see? Imagine those two up against each other – like this – and with the head and tail still at each end. That would be a fish."
"Oh. I get it."
"And then you can add all sorts of other things depending on what kind of fish it is. Lemon, garlic, herbs, onion, chillies, capers."
"What if I don't have the ingredients?" she asks.
A third, longer pause.
"You will have to plan ahead slightly," I say, eventually. "And buy some ingredients beforehand." I look around the store. "From here, perhaps, before you go home."
She beams.
"I will!" she says, as if I have vouchsafed her the wisdom of ages.
"Excellent."
We take our leave of each other. I still don't know how to pronounce tilapia but you know what? On the whole, it's been an education