Britons against unpatriotic crisps, and other food-based blights on our nation; for Brexit.

by richardhutton

Few things in life could demand a firmer moral stance than food; and nothing could pep-up the nation’s vivacity faster than harnessing gut instinct.

To that end, a steady instillation of patriotism into the future contents of one’s bowels will lead our nation to achieve its destiny – and induce perfect hygienic regularity among its citizens – at one fell stroke. Never has this been more important than before now.

Therefore we must close the borders to foreign fruit and vegetables, in order to purify the British crop. British children must not grow up with bananas and oranges in one hand or the other; no longer able to appreciate the nutritional value of a good British apple or a pure, juicy parsnip. In short, it is time to take back control of our shopping trollies and supermarket hand-baskets; and Bake Britain Great Again.

It is a simple fact that food consumed in Britain should ideally be born here, and speak English.

Take crisps, for example: to put it bluntly, potatoes are a foreign introduction to our shores. The only sensible solution to this offence is for Britain to ban any import of root vegetables; and instead of making crisps out of the potato, we should simply use native turnips, cauliflowers, and perhaps the odd frond of indigenous kale.

More importantly still, crisps should have appropriate and patriotic flavours – ones which capture the true spirit of Britain. Once assured of this, a six-bag multipack will allow a comprehensive range of British seasoning for British crisps, for British people. I propose the following:

1 x Bovril
1 x Ovaltine
1 x Full English Breakfast
1 x Football
1 x The Battle of Britain
1 x Trafalgar Day

You see, the British crisp is a highly intelligent, highly capable crisp. Not for the true born Briton the decadent tang of ‘Prawn Cocktail’; nor the effete intellectual palate of ‘Avocado & Tarragon’. The British crisp will be firm, the British crisp will be proud, and the British crisp will be on the march.

We should also demand that any food stuff or type which does move into Britain should learn to speak our native language once here. This will pull everyone in a more sensible direction.

For example, baguettes could be renamed “bread wands”; and croissants “pastries beige in flavour and appearance”. A cappuccino should be called “a frothy coffee” – as a matter of urgency. While champagne can make any future reference to itself as “fizzy alcoholic grape juice”. This will prevent riots breaking out on the streets of Britain, by ensuring that nobody ever hears a suspiciously foreign-sounding word at any time.

What’s more, there is little reason for anyone to be unduly concerned by an increase of food prices. People can simply summon the spirit of Dunkirk – that is to say, employ a bit of gumption, some pluck, maintain a stiff upper elbow; and take a do-it-yourself approach to the whole affair.

For example, you can simply make your own Marmite, out of shredded pages from the Telegraph, and spent tea-bags – providing a healthy combination of much needed foliage, and essential daily papers.

And it need not end there. If foreign companies, such as Nestle, opt to increase their prices – due to the Brexpeditious reduction of sterling’s value – then we can simply clone their fare; and create British mutations of them instead. This could not be simpler.

To take but one instance, Kit Kats: first, we begin by downloading their DNA from the internet; and then we splice it with a genetically-British foodstuff, such as bread or pie crust – and behold: Brit Kats.

In fact, let us put this scheme at the very heart of Britain’s future trade plans. British brentrepreneurs can brexport native-grown goods to every far flung corner of the planet in the world. It will not be difficult to remain competitive: the tea plantations in Britain are among the most productive in the western hemisphere. Homegrown British tea-leaves can be exported to all countries which are less well equipped to grow their own tea than we are – such as India, China, or Africa.

Picture it now: the new Royal Yacht sailing the many seas of the world – bringing tea, crisps and an edible version of Marmite to grateful nations. All thanks to Brexit.

Fair-minded readers will surely concur that all of this offers irrefutable evidence of Brexit’s imminent glory. I really cannot imagine the sort of person who would disagree; and I think that says all we need to know about them.

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