Search results

The purpose of this pilot-scale study was to compare the quality of traditionally manufactured butters from local, small British producers with the quality of butters that are produced industrially.

Butter samples were obtained after supervised site inspections of three traditional-butter manufacturers and one large-scale butter producer. The samples were subject to initial microbiological, chemical and sensory testing, followed by a refrigerated shelf-life study over 24 weeks.

Traditional butters matched or exceeded the sensory quality of industrial butters, but spoilage microorganisms tended to grow faster on traditional butters. This seemed to be related to poorer water droplet dispersion in the manufacture of some of the traditionally made butters. Visible mould appeared on two of the traditional butters after eight weeks, but this occurred well after the nominal “best before” date.

Prolonged lockdowns due to the current coronavirus disease (COVID-19) pandemic pose a threat to the food supply chain, and food produced by local manufacturers may become increasingly important. However, are foods produced by local small-scale manufacturers of a quality comparable to that produced using large-scale production facilities? To the best of the authors' knowledge, there is no comparative study of the quality and shelf-life of traditionally-produced and industrially-produced butters. The current work presents such a comparison together with an outline of how the process of traditional butter-making differs from commercial production in Britain.

In this chapter, I take a talk show in which Coen Teulings, then Director of the official Dutch Bureau for Economic Forecasting and Policy Analysis (CPB) was interviewed about its economic forecasts in the immediate aftermath of the financial crisis of 2008 as point of entry into an examination into how personal experience and judgment enter, and are essential for, the production and presentation of economic forecasts. During the interview it transpired that CPB did not rely on its macroeconomic models, but on personal experience encapsulated in “hand-made” monitors, to observe the unfolding crisis; monitors that were, in Teulings’ words, used to “feel the pulse” of the Dutch economy. I will take this metaphor as a cue to present several historical episodes in which models, numbers, and a certain feel for economic phenomena aimed to make CPB economists’ research more precise. These episodes are linked with a story about vain attempts by CPB director Teulings to drive out the personal from economic forecasting. The crisis forced him to recognize that personal experience was more important in increasing the precision of economic forecasts than theoretical deepening. The crisis thus both challenged the belief in the supremacy of theory driven, computer-based forecasting, and helped foster the view that precision is inevitably linked to judgment, experience and observation, and not seated in increased attention to high theory; scientifically sound knowledge proved less useful than the technically unqualified experiential knowledge of quacks.

The Commission appointed jointly by the World Health Organization and the Food and Agricultural Organization continues to plod its weary way towards the establishment of Codex standards for all foods, which it is hoped will eventually be adopted by all countries, to end the increasing chaos of present national standards. We have to go back to 1953, when the Sixth World Health Assembly showed signs of a stirring of international conscience at trends in food industry; and particularly expressed “the view that the increasing use of various chemical substances had … , created a new public health problem”. Joint WHO/FAO Conferences which followed initiated inter alia international consultations and the setting up of the Joint FAO/WHO Codex Alimentarius Commission.

The substitution of an imitation of some kind for the article actually asked for or desired by the purchaser is a particularly mean form of deception which is practised nowadays to an almost incredible extent. It is astonishing and mournful that so many persons should be concerned in the deliberate initiation, fostering, and carrying on of so shameful a system, and that others are to be found who in speech and print seem willing to lend to it either their countenance or condonation. One must suppose that there exists a form of moral obliquity or distortion—at first accentuated and ultimately rendered incurable by the acquirement and contemplation of illegitimate gains—which makes the sufferer incapable of grasping the fact that the proceedings in question are utterly degrading and iniquitous. However this may be, the circumstances are such that a strong endeavour ought to be made to get the public to appreciate them, and to expose and, as far as may be possible, to punish those who are guilty, at any rate of the worst types of fraudulent dealing referred to. The Daily Mail and, in a lesser but important degree, the Daily News, have rendered excellent service by directing attention to the matter. The articles which have been published up to the present in these newspapers have been reprinted in pamphlet form under the title of “ The Fraud of the Label,” and a study of this brief but telling exposé may be strongly recommended to all and sundry. A most appropriate quotation from Sir WALTER SCOTT'S “Kenilworth ” appears on the title page: “ Some … plainly admitted they had never seen it; others denied that such a drug existed … and most of them attempted to satisfy their customer by producing some substitute … which, they maintained, possessed in a superior degree the self‐same qualities.”

At a meeting of the Council of the Royal Borough of Kensington on February 29th, ALDERMAN A. G. McARTHUR, Chairman of the Public Health Committee of the Council, brought up a Report as follows— “We have received replies from nineteen City and Borough Councils to the circular letter addressed to them by this Council protesting against the suggestion made by the Board of Agriculture and Fisheries that, before proceedings under the Sale of Food and Drugs Acts are instituted on analytical evidence in respect of milk there should be a preliminary investigation by an officer of the Local Authority, or that the milk producer should be given an opportunity of offering an explanation.

Few will complain that 1974 has not been an eventful year; in a number of significant respects, it has made history. Local Government and National Health Services reorganizations are such events. This is indeed the day of the extra‐large authority, massive monoliths for central administration, metropolitan conurbations for regional control, district councils corresponding to the large authorities of other days; and in a sense, it is not local government any more. As in other fields, the “big batallions” acquire greater collective power than the total sum of the smaller units, can wield it more effectively, even ruthlessly, but rarely appearing to take into account the masses of little people, the quiet people, who cannot make themselves heard. As expected, new names of authorities are replacing the old; new titles for departments and officers, ambitious and high‐sounding; a little grandiose for the tongues of ordinary folk. Another history‐making event of 1974, in the nature of a departmental transfer but highly significant for the course of future events as far as work in the field is concerned, was handing over of the personal health services—health of expectant mothers, babies, children, domiciliary midwifery, the school health services and their mainly medical and nursing personnel—from local health authorities to the newly created area health authorities. The public health departments over fifty years and more had created them, built them up into the highly efficient services they are. If anything can be learned from the past, new authorities are always more expensive than those they replace; they spend freely and are lavish with their accommodation and furnishings. In their first few months of existence, the new bodies have proved they are no exception. News of their meetings and activities in many areas is now scanty; even local newspapers which usually thrive on Council news—or quarrels—seem to have been caught on the wrong foot, especially in the small towns now merged into larger units. The public are relatively uninformed, but this doubtless will soon be rectified.

When a community of fifty thousand people have all their eggs in two baskets and one is dropped it is a serious matter, not only for the industry concerned but for all who live upon it indirectly. Especially is this so when geographical isolation makes it impossible for the worker to transfer to other employment when his job fails. Jersey, the largest of the Channel Islands, has experienced the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune on several occasions since liberation from German thraldom revived both hope and opportunity to make up the loss and deprivations of those five weary years. It has not been all plain sailing. In addition to starved soil, depreciated and often ruined buildings, and other drawbacks experienced in common with agriculturalists in other countries, Jersey has had her own problems, chief of which has been the Colorado Beetle. A legacy of German neglect, this pest had established itself so widely on the island that the first crop of potatoes raised after Liberation was not safe to be imported to England, and was therefore sold to France. This was unsatisfactory from a financial point of view, and so the following year the crop was taken up by the Army of Occupation on the Rhine. By the season of 1947 sufficient progress had been made in the elimination of the beetle to allow crops from unaffected areas to enter England, and once again normal trading, in so far as controls of all kinds would permit, was resumed. Jersey is a two‐crop island and potatoes must be succeeded by tomatoes if the highly‐priced land is to be made to pay for itself. So while the first of these crops was just paying its way, the second was expected to clear costs and to make the farmer or grower his profit. When it looked as though this might be possible this season the islanders came up against another, and quite unexpected, snag—too much fine weather. It may sound ungrateful to say this, in view of the many thousands of visitors which the continued sunshine brought to the island, and actually the farmer was glad enough to have the fine dry days in which to get his work done. But it reacted against him by bringing on his fruit too early and all at once, which meant that it arrived upon the market when there were still quantities of Guernsey and English glasshouse tomatoes as well as Dutch and other foreign‐grown available, and Jersey shipments were so heavy that they caused a glut. Where a grower is situated near an industrial or residential area he has the opportunity in such circumstances of disposing of at least part of his fruit as it ripens, by retail or direct sale, even if only to passers‐by. But on an island where three‐quarters of the population is engaged in growing tomatoes or in handling them in some way, everyone is soon sick of the sight of them and it is impossible to give them away if a glut occurs. That happened this summer when on two occasions of several days each it was necessary for the authorities to prohibit picking the fruit. The island crop must be gathered when it is first turning from green to yellow in order to allow it to ripen during the process of grading, packing and transit by sea and rail to the wholesale distributors, and thence via the retailer to the ultimate consumer. Therefore, when the position arose that the distributors could handle no more of the 12 lb. trays and the order went out that no more fruit should be picked there were many thousands of these containers en route between the farmsteads and the ships which awaited them at the quayside. All this fruit became useless within a matter of hours, and the only thing to do with it would have been to drive to a disused quarry or to the seashore and dump the lot, had it not been for the local canning factory. Jersey Canners Ltd. has been in existence from the early days of this century, but were not in a position to handle a great deal of produce until this year, when they were taken under the wing of the National Canning Co. Ltd., with Mr. S. W. Smedley in control. A great deal of this surplus was therefore taken over by this factory and converted into puree and sauce, as well as being canned whole. The development and processing of the fruit in this way is a story of its own, but perhaps the most interesting feature of this factory's work is that of the preparation of tomato juice on a commercial scale. This latter process, as apart from the more usual methods of dealing with the tomatoes, was due to the foresight of Mr. Smedley, who early this year visualised the possibilities of utilising any surplus crop and thus, when the position arose, was able to put upon the market the first tins of pure tomato juice ever to have been produced commercially outside of the U.S.A. To do this it was necessary to install an American pre‐heating vacuum pasteurising machine, but all other necessary mechanical appliances are British. These consist of endless belting, elevator, seamer, rotary cooker and cooler, and labelling machines. On arrival at the factory the fruit is conveyed from the lorries by roller belt to the elevator leading to the rotary washing machines. After thorough cleansing it passes on to a sorting belt, where diseased and immature samples are discarded and the remainder are stemmed by a small staff of women. The fruit is then fed automatically to the chopping machine and after treatment it experiences its first heating in the pasteuriser. This prepares it for the actual juice extraction, which is carried out in a machine which discards the cores, skins and seeds, and pumps the pure juice back into the pre‐heater, where it is pasteurised at a temperature of 180 degrees. After passing through this process the juice flows to the automatic filling machine, which handles 60 cans per minute, and so to the seamer, where the lids are sealed down before the cans pass into the cooker. This is an automatic rotary machine which ejects the cans after 15 minutes at a temperature, of 212 degrees. They are then cooled off for ten minutes in a cold water tank and set aside for labelling. The purely mechanical processes here described appear to make the preparation of tomato juice a simple matter. Actually, however, it is one requiring much investigation into the problems of fermentation, colouring, etc., beforehand, and careful attention to temperatures and timing of the various processes while in operation. Cooking of the juice is effected by steam with the cans in a vacuum, this process conserving the vitamin contents and the natural colouring of the juice, two most important features which would be sacrificed if the liquid was exposed to the light at a high temperature. The plant at present installed at Messrs. Jersey Canners Ltd. is capable of handling up to four tons of fruit per hour and has been turning out about 30,000 cases of assorted 16 oz. and 32 oz. cans per month during the height of the rush period. At that time the factory was working right round the clock with the aid of volunteer workers, many of whom put in time at night after their own day's work, in order to save as much as possible of the crop that would otherwise have been thrown away.

In view of the vital and essential part which the trade of this country must necessarily play in the winning of the war and in safeguarding the peace, it is comforting to know that at last it is beginning to be realised in official quarters that the only way to resuscitate trade and provide a substantial proportion of exports in payment of indispensable imports is to remove restrictions and barriers and to allow trade its natural freedom as far as possible. The lamentable lack of foresight and the inefficiency shown, immediately following the outbreak of war, in imposing pools and controls in all kinds of trades, has already been responsible for the loss of vast sums of money by the commercial interests of the country, and the time has come when experimental hindrances of this kind must be resisted. A special correspondent of The Times, in an excellent article referring to the pooling system, observes that the disappearance of a trade name from shops and hoardings may not strike the ordinary man as really important. But the manufacturer who produces and advertises branded goods guarantees in effect that consumers are supplied with goods of a recognised quality and at a fixed price. To the maker pooling means the loss of whatever goodwill is vested in his name or trade‐mark, to establish which in public favour may have cost him many years of effort and a large investment. The goodwill of British industry and trade is in large measure the sum of goodwill earned by hundreds of separate commodities. The absorption of branded goods in a common pool confronts business men with a problem which they should examine here and now in preparation for the day when trade reverts to its function of satisfying the needs of people living at peace. The problem is to maintain their goodwill in the interval. Much the same difficulties will have to be met by other firms—and possibly by whole industries—which, though their products are not pooled, have turned over from fulfilling peace‐time demands to direct participation in the national war effort. There are clothing manufacturers whose output is needed for the Services. Some businesses find their occupation gone because their raw material—it may be timber—is not now freely available. The production of electricity and gas is restricted by rationing. As the Government ould not look with favour on campaigns to increase sales of gas or electricity, the industries which supply them cannot very well advertise in the ordinary way. But what, then, is to become of “Mr. Therm,” who has been built up so skilfully and at some considerable cost as a model public servant? Publicity seems to be the answer to this problem of keeping goodwill alive. The managing director of a leading motor manufacturing company has made it known that that is the policy which his firm intend to follow while they are exclusively occupied in building aero engines. They will keep their name before the public by advertising, and they believe all makers of British cars should do the same, whether they are at present turning out private cars or not. Advertising is included among the legitimate and, indeed, essential activities classed as business development work, and is allowed as a trade expense before profits are calculated for taxation. It would be well for firms to think carefully before letting all their normal expenditure on business development lapse in war‐time. Ordinary trade has a vital part to play in the war, if only because it is out of profits alone that the revenues needed for fighting can be found. Though the times are difficult, new opportunities and markets will present themselves. Markets hitherto served by Germany are to‐day open to the British manufacturer, if the requisite arrangements for export can be made. At home, with the life of the people going on, new habits are forming, and with them new requirements. The trader who puts forth his best efforts during war‐time is helping his country, not hampering it. It is for the Government to ease his way by removing needless obstructions to normal trade; it is for business men themselves to face their problems with initiative and energy.

Government appointed and sponsored committees of every description—select, ad hoc, advisory, inquiry—such a prominent feature of the public scene since the last War, are understandable, even acceptable, reflect the urgency of the times in which we live. In the gathering gloom of more recent twilight years, they have flourished inordinately, especially in the socio‐political field, where most of their researches have been conducted. Usually embellished with the name of the figure‐head chairman, almost always expensively financed, they have one thing in common—an enormous output of words, telling us much of what we already know. So much of it seems dull, meaningless jargon, reflecting attitudes rather than sound, general principles.

President, Charles S. Goldman, M.P.; Chairman, Charles Bathurst, M.P.; Vice‐Presidents: Christopher Addison, M.D., M.P., Waldorf Astor, M.P., Charles Bathurst, M.P., Hilaire Belloc, Ralph D. Blumenfeld, Lord Blyth, J.P., Colonel Charles E. Cassal, V.D., F.I.C., the Bishop of Chichester, Sir Arthur H. Church, K.C.V.O., M.A., D.Sc., F.R.S., Sir Wm. Earnshaw Cooper, C.I.E., E. Crawshay‐Williams, M.P., Sir Anderson Critchett, Bart., C.V.O., F.R.C.S.E., William Ewart, M.D., F.R.C.P., Lieut.‐Colonel Sir Joseph Fayrer, Bart., M.A., M.D., Sir Alfred D. Fripp, K.C.V.O., C.B., M.B., M.S., Sir Harold Harmsworth, Bart., Arnold F. Hills, Sir Victor Horsley, M.D., F.R.C.S., F.R.S., O. Gutekunst, Sir H. Seymour King, K.C.I.E., M.A., the Duke of Manchester, P.C., Professor Sir Wm. Osler, Bart., M.D., F.R.S., Sir Gilbert Parker, D.C.L., M.P., Sir Wm. Ramsay, K.C.B., LL.D., M.D., F.R.S., Harrington Sainsbury, M.D., F.R.C.P., W. G. Savage, M.D., B.Sc., R. H. Scanes Spicer, M.D., M.R.C.S., the Hon. Lionel Walrond, M.P., Hugh Walsham, M.D., F.R.C.P., Harvey W. Wiley, M.D., Evelyn Wrench.