Monday, 26 November 2012

Spreading Christmas Cheer (over a chicken breast)


Its the time of the year where each day it is getting one day closer to Christmas, meaning everyone needs to buy their Christmas presents from the Christmas shop. Christmas!

This means that Christmas adverts are back on the television, and it was difficult to miss the controversy surrounding this year's offerings. There's that one with the snowmen and the singing, the one with the singing and the dancing; plus Morrisons and Asda are leaving dads up and down the land weeping into their Batman costumes by giving all the credit for the Christmas Day experience to an actress. Only the coffee firm who chose to run with an advert depicting Rasputin fisting a lobster have escaped criticism.

For many, the appearance of Christmas adverts is the official beginning of Christmas itself. There are problems with this – its essentially a construct, and therefore unlike the first swallow of the winter, or the last man standing at an office booze-up, should not be taken as a natural sign of this watershed. However this is rendered less moronic compared to the excitement that seems to grasp some at the first sighting of the Christmas advert for Fizzy-Cola-Super-Pop. My childhood Christmases may appear to have not been as traditional as I once imagined when I admit that not once did I spend evenings on end gazing out of the window, awaiting the distant rumble of articulated lorries. In fact there was a haulage firm and skip hire at one end of the road, and the shuddering and jostling of the lorries and their rusting chains as they hurtled through the narrow bends of the village scared the living shit out of me; I would tend to be walking up the road at the time to purchase sherbet from the newsagents, or something equally wistful and nostalgic. I still occasionally run for the panic room at DAL Towers when a tractor coasts past the bottom of the drive to this day.

Altogether more appropriate were the adverts they used to show for mayonnaise. These were mercifully brief, tended only to be shown in the couple of weeks leading up to Christmas Day, and listed the foods you could eat with said condiment in a jaunty reworking of The Twelve Days of Christmas. It spread the message of the deliciousness of Christmas, and mentioned the word Ham. If anything this was a more palatable marker for the start of the festive season, and if you didn't like it, it was also very easy to ignore; such was the brevity that one could simply belch loudly to avoid it. Nowadays even the lengthiest of burps would only take you into Act III of the latest M&S epic, in which Twiggy discovers the powdery snowball fight she had at the beginning of the advert distracted her from remembering to put any ruddy clothes on.

Sadly the mayonnaise adverts have now changed and, whilst still not up to the duration of the aforementioned epics, the simplicity has gone and the deliciousness has been replaced with vaguely unpleasant recipe ideas. Stir a spoonful of it into mashed potato. Spread it on top of a chicken breast and grill it (which would surely have the same effect as leaving a pile of mayo in the midday sun and allowing it to dry out into a form of gone-off eggy savoury fondant icing). Spread it on a wall and eat it with a pickled egg. Mix it with tonic and drink it from a tramp's boot. All and none of these ideas are suggested, and in DAL Towers at least, ignored with contempt.

In the week when the Leveson Report will be published and Chelsea are set to announce their next three managers, it is important we do not lose sight of the importance of the loss of the simplistic mayonnaise adverts. Without them we are left staring out of the window, waiting for the lorries to roll in.

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