I was living in cloud cuckoo land until a week or so ago, when my previous appreciation of the cost of bread was sadly lacking. I'd been of the opinion that bread was overpriced, and in the range of 45p - £1.70 for a normal loaf - 800g. Clearly the 45p versions are the supermarkets' own versions - cardboard - and the more expensive loaves tend to be 'Farmhouse' or 'Seeded' or supposedly wholesome. Somewhere in the middle are the "2 for £2" versions, or about £1.30 each. All this was my perception of the bread market.
I was very aware of the 'half loaf' development. I have never actually bought a half-loaf, but I have bought a small loaf that weighs half of a normal one. There is something utterly wrong about buying proper sized bread in a bag that looks half used. It is rather common for me to find that a half-loaf has to be chucked away. Why on earth, then, would I be psychologically comfortable in purchasing what is actually a remnant?
So, half the number of proper slices in a bag that looks 'used' is not an attractive commodity, and it is made all the more unattractive by the ludicrous pricing policies that go with such product lines. A 'small loaf', however, is a different matter. I am much more able to consider the purchase of a small loaf. The presentation of the 400g of bread is more pleasing; I feel I am buying a complete product, not 'dregs'.
I am no expert on the number of slices contained within any loaf - and with so many variations of thickness for a slice these days, the number in a loaf can no doubt vary considerably. I have not (yet) gone to the trouble of comparing surface area of a normal slice against the area of a slice from a small loaf. It could be that if a normal loaf is 16 slices, then a small loaf is 12 with an area two-thirds the size (assuming similar thickness). That would work out perfectly. The mathematics also provide a solution that could mean (if the normal loaf had 18 slices) 12 slices at three-quarters of the surface area (again, assuming equal thickness). Whatever the maths, it is a fact that to have a small loaf with a crust at each end, and a reduced but appropriate quantity of bread, is eminently more agreeable than a half loaf.
All of this is somewhat tangential to the content of the opening paragraph, in which I revealed my increased awareness of the cost of bread. Contrary to the argument in favour of small loaves over half loaves, I recently decided that a small loaf on sale in Asda was a complete piss-take. The small loaf (there was no half loaf option) of 400g was available at a price of £2.68. That's right, you are not misreading at all - the price was that fucking high. What could possibly warrant such a charge. Apparently some cunt removing the wheat and gluten from it. Yes, for those with intolerance (the latest word for allergy) there's a pathetic effort to cater for a dietary need that requires avoidance of these things. The small loaf was nestled [notNestlé'd] on a shelf near some organic shit, and I was bemused by the audacity of manufacturers. At a rate of £5.36 for a fucking loaf of bread, this must surely be the most expensive supermarket bread in the UK (?)
Eau Dear
The price of water at Asda last week was the cause of some concern. I went to the multipacks of still spring water, and saw what should have been (and was) a pack of 12 x 500ml bottles. The going rate for these in recent weeks has been £2, although I think this has been some sort of offer. Nevertheless, this was a 'benchmark' for me in assessing which bottles to buy. Nestlé bottles were the ones I bought last time, so I expected to see a pack that would do the job. I noticed a pack of bottles that was indeed 12x500ml, although it was on its own, on the wrong shelf, and unpriced. Just along from it were a number of multipacks that at first glance seemed to be what I was after, and the standard fare from Nestlé. However, closer inspection revealed a perfect example of supermarket cuntishness. The packs were indeed £2, but contained just ten bottles - and each was 330ml. WHAT? I put the 12x500ml in the trolley and was prepared to dump them at the checkout if the price was too high.
As an aside, when I was a small kid, Nestlé ['Ness-lay'] was pronounced rather differently - it was Nestles [as in a child nestles against its mother] and the Milky Bar song proves that completely. These days, we are forced to adopt the accent. I am reminded of my first encounter with a car called Renault, which my dad pronounced as though it rhymed with 'fault' rather than the French for 'water'. Anyway, back to the plot, although first, who cannot recall the weirdness of the Renault 12? What a strange car, and proof that the strangeness of French cars is surpassed only by those of Soviet-bloc nations, with their fondness for outlandish farm machinery and vehicles that look like they were supposed to be doing something other than transporting people.
The price at the checkout turned out to be £2.29 for 12x500, and I was accepting of a 29p premium on the previously purchased water. Comparing this to the revised sales pitch at Asda for rip-off bottles, I was lucky to have escaped being utterly and wholeheartedly ripped off! 10x330ml for £2 is the new deal, so just 3.3 litres. For just 29p more, I got 6 litres. The fuckers are screwing us on the sly [just like the 4-packs of Snickers and Mars I saw in a petrol station but the weight of each bar was about 40g, not 58g. What size is that - Snack? Fun? Cunt?
So, in summary, water is now overpriced at Asda, and the 'creative' marketing is fucking people over. Alongside that, we have bread that's reached a new level of value, if things are removed from it. The fact that the Co-op looks cheap in comparison completely proves the point of an overcharge.
Be warned, folks - bread and water may not be the poor man's diet, or a menu that shows you're a pauper! The above photo could represent £1.10 spent!
...
No comments:
Post a Comment