A CARGO OF FROZEN MEAT.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3530, 31 October 1882, Page 4

A CARGO OF FROZEN MEAT.

The London correspondent of tbe South Australian Chronicle thus narrates his own experience of the frozen meat trade in London:—We will take the cargo of the Lusitania. which arrived at the end of July ■with 4400 sheep, and some 40 quarters of beef. The vessel reaches the docks in the afternoon. The meat seems to be in prime condition, but it is not touched during the day—not until hours after the hot summer sun has set, and the air has become as cool as the density of a London atmosphere will permit, is the unloading begun. Then gangs of men set to work by gaslight, hoisting !the meat into the railway trucks, whish run close up to the side of tho steamer. Until sunrise the labor continues, and then is suspended till the ensuing night, and so on as long as the task remains unfinished. The meat, as soon as the trucks are rilled, is taken about a quarter of a mile to the London and St. Eatberine Dock Company's special warehouse, erected six months ago. This facility for storing is of the greatest value; formerly the meat had to be takea from the ship direct to the market, and some deterioration in quality was the result of euch an imperfect arrangement. Now, however, the mutton and beef are kept in the wharchouse, which contains eight refrigerating chambers, maintained at a temperature of 20deg, and capable in all, of containing 8000 sheep without any strain. The consignees having the meat thus stored, can dispose of it according to demand. As a rule, a shipment is, I believe, cleared out in ten days or so. But from this warehouse the meat has to be conveyed to that vast wilderness of butchers' stalls —Smithfielcl Market —in the heart of London, not ten minutes' walk from Cheapside and St. Paul's. The market opens at 3 a.m.; consequently, vans laden with the meat (which has, in preparation, been thawed by exposure to the atmosphere) start from the warehouse at the docks about midnight, and traverse the intervening six miles by 4 a.m. Incidentally, I may note that the rates of storage at the dock warehouse are as follow : —For receiving from ship and conveying to store, together with rent for one week, for the first 1000 carcases, foursixteenths of a penny; for all between 1000 and 2000 carcases, three-sixteenths of a penny; for all in excess of 2000 carcases, two-sixteenths of a penny. Secondly, the rent for a week, or part of a week, after the first week is two-sixteentbs, three-thirty the second, and one-sixteenth of a penny, according to the number of carcases, computed in the order given above. It is to be added that no less charge than for ten tons is made on any parcel. Now to return to the Smithfield Market. The proportion of the frozen meat trade are as yet so small that only one of the legion butcher firms is commissioned to sell the Orient consignments sent from Melbourne, though I believe another firm also is employed for Sydney meat. Messrs Ward and Stimpson have a small office and a large number of hook-covered stands, whereon the Australian meat is duly displayed on sale days. There is no sort of auction, but the buyers bargain in private style. As a rule, the meat is disposed of, but if the prices ruling are too low, the agents of the Melbourne shippers (Messrs Leishman, Atkins, and Co., of Cannonstreet) are able to return it to tho Dock Warehouse, and bring it out again on a future day. In practice, however, this rather risky course is seldom adopted, and the meat usually goos at wbat it will fetch. This particular Lusitania lot in which we are concerned was prime, and part brought 6id. 'But who are the buyers, and what becomes of the meat ?' you will ask. Well, you must not imagine that your little Australian meat cargoes make a very big impression in a market which supplies pretty nearly 5,000,000 of people. Smithfield Market disposes of 5,500 tons of meat per week, and Australia has not contributed more than 2200 tons in a year and a half. But still the question may be partially answered. There are 'two classes of butchers in London—those who deal in large quantities of primest quality, and again the ' cutting' butchers, as they are technically called, who divide the meat into smaller joints, and are not so particular as to primeness ; who, in fact, take all the foreign meat. The Australian meat is making its way into this second class of the trade, but not into the first and best. lam speaking here of mutton, and to mutton shall continue to refer, because the beef sent has been infinitesimal in quantity, owing, no doubt, to its being less easily handled and stored in the ship than mutton ; and moreover the process of thawing the beef is very tedious, because of its bulkiness. The very best of the frozen mutton does not enter into competition with the splendid Scotch, or with even the English meat sold by the first-class butcher; but it does compare quite successfully (when the shipment is good) with the English-grown meat usually sold by the second-class. 'But if we send our best mutton it will surely be equal to the best English or Scotch,' you will say. Well, it ought to be j but, somehow, it is not. 'J he delicacy of flavor noticeable in the best Home mutton is not found in your frozen and thawed article. ' Why ?' People in tho trade here simply tell you they don't know. A bottle of old wine loses its fineness of flavor after having been frozen — similarly tho meat loses its delicacy. That is all the people at Smithfield can tell you. . . . Another point to be noted is that crossbred mutton 'goes off' better in London than merino. English mutton is larger than your merino. ' You see,' said a father of a happy circle to me the other day, ' when a person has a leg of mutton for dinner, say on Sunday, it is expected to serve for supper that night, and to last in one form or another, into the week. But if one makes a Sunday dinner off one of your merino legs of mutton there's nothing but the bone left for supper, to say nothing of Monday. You give us as much bene in your leg of mutton, but by no means as much meat. That doesn't pay.' Lastly, I may note, for your encouragement, that if you would take more care over the freezing and shipment you would have a considerable 'pull' over the home meat grower, because the freedom of your sheep from disease euables you to let the animals mature. In England a sheep would become diseased if kept as long as you usually keep it before killing.