FIGHTING FOR LIFE AND FED LIKE THIS

Press, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 25300, 27 September 1947, Page 8

FIGHTING FOR LIFE AND FED LIKE THIS

A WINDOW ON

LONDON

By

For “The Press”

HARVEY BLANKS

London, September 17.—Food is going to be a major problem in Britain this winter. The new crisis economy measures which came into operation last Monday are already being felt in the restaurants and cafes; and the change in points values of many imported foods has made things even more difficult for the worried housewife. All commercial catering establishments which charge more than 2s 3d for any meal have had their food supplies drastically cut. In New Zealand one can eat quite well for 2s 3d; but in Britain, for several years now, it has been almost impossible to get an adequate meal for less than 4s or ss, the maximum permissible charge. Because of high overhead costs, most of London’s catering establishments are unable to alter their menus to provide for a maximum charge of 2s 3d. Therefore about 90 per cent, have been affected by the new food cuts. From a rapid survey I have made since Monday, it appears that most restaurants intend to serve rationed foods only every third day. Thus, for five days each week there will be no meat dishes, no bread, butter, or cheese. On those days the customer will have to be content with fish or spaghetti. On the two days in each week when meat is on the menu portions served will be smaller by one third. -

Tourists See One Side . . . The large luxury hotels are better off. While they are not permitted to charge more than 5s for any meal, drinks excluded, they are able to add to their bill “cover” and “service’ charges, amounting to several shillings a head, plus a reservation fee, plus a charge for music in the dining room. The over-all effect is that they can serve expensive foods beyond the reach of smaller establishments. By reorganising their menus, and with the help of clever and experienced chefs, they can carry on without any great inconvenience to their guests. It is a curious fact that in austerityridden Britain, luxury foods are fairly plentiful. The question is whether you have the money to buy them. They have come largely from Italy and France, two countries which have little else to export. To maintain some sort of trade with the Continent, Britain takes payment for her exports in whatever goods these countries can send. So the shops are full of lobster canned in white wine and similar extravagant delicacies. Unfortunately these hotels, serving the best food available in Britain today, are patronised largely by tourists and a other oversea visitors, who are therefore likely to get a quite false impression of the country’s dietary. Confusion ifc the Cafes Millions of office workers and shop assistants eat every day at snack bars or in self-service buffet cafes. In order to avoid the food cuts, these establish* ments have all, imposed the 2s 3d restriction this week. Notices are now prominently displayed: “In this period of national emergency, we are forced to restrict our customers to a total expenditure of 2s 3d for a meal.” Utter confusion has reigned since, but I suppose people will get used to it in time. Yesterday I stood at the head of a long queue in one of these cafes, watching the harassed cashier explaining to one person in three that his tray contained food costing more than 2s 3d, and therefore some must be returned to the shelves. You see people milling about the food counters, trying to work out whether, if they take a third sandwich, they will still be able to buy a cake, or trying to make up their minds whether a bread roll or a saucer of stewed apple will fill up better.

The Harassed Housewife No more dried eggs and tinned meats are coming from America now, and to make existing stocks last as long as possible in the shops the Ministry of Food has increased their points value. ‘Every person in Britain gets 28 food points in h. s ration book each month. He may use these as he pleases on goods allotted a points value; but the new values place many of these auxiliary foods beyond the reach of all but large families. For instance, luncheon meat, tinned meat, and meat loaf have gone up to 36 points a pound—more than the entire points ration for one person for a month. As points cannot be carried over for use in the following period, people living alone will never be able to buy these goods. A tin of stewed steak now costs 16 points and one packet of dried egg powder 10 points. Dried eggs have been one of the most popular of the foods on points. But few housewives now will

be prepared to spend so large a proportion of their month’s food points on a comparative luxury. Not that the? will have long to hesitate. When present stocks are exhausted there will be no more. Other cuts affect home meals, part of the pitifully small British meat r«. tion has to be taken in Argentine “corned beef” of such poor quality that any self-respecting New Zealand far. mer would hesitate to feed it to his dog. Last week, my butcher told m* that he could not supply even that. In. stead, he offered me one small slice of liver sausage. That, with two scraggy mutton chops, is my week’s ration Next day my milkman informed me that he could let me have only one pint in the coming week—half a pint on Monday and half a pint on Thurs. day. My turn for “offal’’ at the butcher’s comes round next on December 22, when I will be entitled to buy sixpennyworth of liver. That’s the way it goes. Cut after cut drives the weary, struggling house, wife to tearful despair. And ahead looms the winter, threatening power cuts, fuel cuts, failing gas pressures snow, and unrelieved cold. Food Parcels Not Enough These tired, hungry people of Brltain know there is a vast fund of goodwill for them in the Dominions. The comparatively few families here fortunate enough to receive an occasional food parcel are touchingly grateful. But food parcels are not enough. The great need to-day is for food in the shops, where all can buy it equally. An increase in the universal ration is the great and real need If New Zealanders think that their own rations are already spare, let them try living for a week on the British scale. I should like every person in the Dominion voluntarily to restrict himself, for one week to the rations on which Britons have lived for seven years, and then honestly ask himself whether this most-favoured Dominion could not do twice as much to help. Try It. Here is one person’s rations for a week: Six ounces of fats (butter, margarine, and lard: you may not buy suet or dripping): two chops and two slices of corned beef or luncheon sausage, but no “offal”; one egg; 1J pints of milk; one rasher of bacon; four ounces of jam or marmalade; two ounces of tea; four ounces of sugar; four ounces of sweets. Your bread ration works out at about one-quarter of a 21b loaf each day, if you buy no flour, cakes, scones, or buns. If you choose to buy lib of flour or 31b of cake or Ijlb of bum or scones during the week, you must limit your bread consumption to 3 ounces a day. Your quota of points food would be used up on 8 ounces of breakfast cereal or one 8 ounce tin of baked beans. Vegetables and fresh fruit are unrationed; but oranges, lembns, and bananas are not to be had. If you buy fish you must steam or grill it unless you use some of your precious she ounces of fats for frying. And you should remember that a housewife here probably spends several hours in a queue waiting to purchase fish. You may not buy any other foods; they are all “on points,” if they are obtainable at all. Rations for the Output Battle Live on these rations for a week, and you will be hungry. But if you live on them for several months your system becomes conditioned to them. Hunger disappears but you become easily fatigued. Britons who go abroad find that they are unable to eat a proper meal; their stomachs have “shrunk.” An average New Zealand meal would make them ill.

Most families have to eat at least one meal out a week. However carefully rations are husbanded, they don’t last out 21 meals. Among the saddest sights in London to-day are the snack bars and dilapidated cafes of the East End, where families in the £3 and £4 a week income group have to eat Any night of the week, in the Elephant and Castle district south of the river, in Whitechapel, Limehouse, or Stepney, you can see whole families buying their “evening meal”—a bowl of soup and a piece of bread for 4d. Upon such rations is the great battle for output to be fought. For unless the industrial export targets set by Sir Stafford Cripps can be attained, further food cuts will come. This will be • bitter fight for existence. New Zealand must do more.