Bring down the government one pudding at a time
In times of revolution, the French reach for the Molotov cocktails while the British start thumbing through Delia’s cookbook.
When our neighbours across The Channel were told the retirement age was going to be raised from 62 to 64 there were riots on the streets. A million protested, there were running battles with the police and workers went on strike.
When we’re told our taxes are going up and Britain is broken, those prepared to take meaningful physical action grabbed their nearest mixing bowl and took the butter out of the fridge to soften. How else do you explain the protest at the Tower of London in which anti-capitalist campaigners chucked apple crumble and custard at the Crown Jewels?
In case you missed it, protesters from Take Back Power were arrested at the Tower for smearing the dessert on a display case housing the royal jewellery. They are demanding that the very rich get taxed more.
Why, you may ask, did they use apple crumble? The answer is in their protest slogan: ‘Democracy has crumbled.’ Geddit?
While I’m sure there will be a legion of armchair grumblers who will be affronted by this attack on innocent royal baubles, I can’t help finding it quite quaint. The protesters, I’ve no doubt, are apoplectic at the state of the nation (royals and the tax-avoiding mega rich continue to rake in the cash, while the vast majority of the populace is squeezed from all sides) but they channelled their passion into baking an apple crumble missile. I can believe they followed the cooking instructions to the letter. Heaven forbid their baking skills are questioned. ‘That’s not a crumble, it’s a sponge.’
To a certain extent, I think the protesters went too far into their dessert making. I mean, why add the custard? Focused on the message, not the pud.
Anyway, my big gripe is that, now I’ve turned 60, I have to wait until I’m 67 for my state pension… and no-one kicked off about it. No protests, no fighting with police, not even an apple crumble lobbed at trinkets. Dig out that large spatula. The revolution starts here. I’m thinking whipped cream, strawberries and smashed meringue. ‘Democracy is in a (Eton) mess!’ Who’s with me? Like a sponge, we rise at dawn…