Where is Boswell Farm? (second left past the moon)

By , Medium Well

Where is Boswell Farm

Say what you like about the ethics of cheaper than chips produce and the evils that may or may not lurk within, but we were quite fond of the Tesco value range. Not only did it do what it said on the tin, but the packaging was quite pretty too. Pretty, without being misleading.

Somewhere back when the credit crunch was taking its first bite from our cherry, it became perfectly acceptable to fill your basket with supermarket value range goods. Nobody was looking down at you, we were all in the same boat, and yes we did understand the moral and environmental impact thank you very much but there are mouths to feed.

Then, recently, just as the economy looked all set for eventual recovery, something happened. Supermarket value ranges on produce almost ceased to exist. Apparently, (to the innocent eye), the marketing powers that be had decided that value meat was not actually all that appealing, and so to counteract this (and replicate the success of the discount retailers) they brought some lovely new farms on board. Glory be. Just in case any of us missed this epiphany, the aisles were duly signposted with some traditional looking icons and a bit of food porn thrown in for good measure. My, that homely roast chicken sure does look good. And that sizzling steak. Actually don’t get us started on the steak.

So, pray tell, where are these places of bucolic charm? These examples of rural delight. Well may you ask.

Willow farms, where the poultry run free and perhaps even ride tractors with unfettered joy, are in all likelihood somewhere in rural isolation, but that is possibly because no-one wants to live anywhere near a place of poultry production. Woodside farms must be in some pastoral setting of Southern England, where the pigs root happily for windfall cider apples and the sun perpetually rises over a hazy dawn. Somerset possibly. No?

And then we have good old Boswell Farm. Can’t go far wrong with that. The archetypal image of our green and pleasant land, peppered with black and white cows that go moo and lie down when it’s about to rain. Well, those are actually dairy cows and the beef cows in question are from somewhere across the Irish Sea.

Oddly enough, the one animal that has resisted industrial farming seems to be the one without a fantasy farm of its own. Our hardworking sheep farmers must have missed the memo that day.

So, do us a favour Mr Supermarket Marketer. Show us a bit of respect and we might just do the same. We quite like the old transparent you, when we could at least make up our own minds. We are not, after all, asking for the moon.

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