Meat Is Murder

One of the things I really must do some time is to create a proper database of all the blog entries. The problem is, you see, that I think about something with which to entertain you and it then occurs to me - haven't I done this? So it is today. The other problem is that occasionally I do compile a piece and then decide not to use it. And I suspect this is the case, because can I find it? Anyway, so much for my organisation, or lack thereof.

Some of you may know that I pass my time creating small works of art in the form of adverts for the likes of restaurants and bars. When you go and see a restaurant for the first time, there is a process of information gathering. What is it about your restaurant etc, etc.? If it's Spanish-run, I normally know the answer before it comes, or at least one of the answers. "Specialists in meat." That's the English translation. The restaurant sells itself on the basis of being - a specialist in meat. Now, call me old-fashioned, but, unless a restaurant states specfically that it cooks only fish or vegetarian dishes, I sort of expect that maybe they do meat. It doesn't occur to me that they might specialise in meat as meat is, in my experience, fairly common in restaurants. But no, many a restaurant will announce, quite clearly, it is a meat specialist. Listen to local radio and there will be any number of jibbering formulaic ads for restaurants, some voiceover Charlie or Carlos, excitedly extolling the virtues of Restaurant X, a specialist in meat. The following ad will have more subdued, chilled muzak to create, one presumes, a more serious and intimate image, but there will be the same Carlos now doing a husky voice turn but still specialising in meat.

It makes me wonder if there is some historical reason for this. Perhaps it was once the case that, with the exception of the village goat being served up once in a while, restaurants were specialists merely in sacks of potatoes and a cabbage. I can't think of any other good reason why there is this contemporary insistence, except for a me-too thought process. Once upon a time, a restaurant advertised itself as a specialist in meat, and the rest thought - oh, that's a good idea.

When the Ford Motor Company "invented" quality in whenever it was - the late '70s I think - as a means of promoting Granadas, Sierras and the like, the rest of the marketing world realised that they too would have to boast about their quality. Now everyone does it, and it means absolutely nothing.

I do sort of try to suggest that maybe there is something a bit more to say than the meat specialism deal. But then one runs into the "home-made" or even "hand-made" line: try this cow, and here's one I made earlier. Whatever. They're happy enough, and what the client wants, the client gets.

One other thing you do also tend to encounter is the dodgy translation. The restaurant owner proudly shows you a card or menu or some promotional thing and there it is - rotten English assaulting the eyes. Priceless some of it. "Flesh on the tenterhooks." Some of you might recognise which restaurant this is from. It's one I know very well. Their cards had this tenterhooks faux-pas as a translation (if one can call it that) for tender meat. Lord alone knows how the sap of a printer who boldly said they did English got to this. Well, yes, they did do English. They slaughtered it, hung it and then cooked it to a crisp. At least this particular restaurant didn't claim to be a specialist in meat, though the meat is very good and tender, but not on tenterhooks.

Anyway, if you're off to a restaurant this evening, you can be sure of one thing. Wherever you go, to pretty much whichever restaurant, you will get meat, and meat, moreover, from a specialist. Enjoy your meal.


QUIZ
Yesterday - R. Kelly. Today's title - album by? Easy stuff.

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