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A bugger’s muddle

A swift look at the baking aisle in your local supermarket will tell you that the UK egg industry is in crisis. Andrew Livingston reports

‘A bugger’s muddle’ was the only way that West Dorset egg producer Tim Gelfs would describe the state of the egg industry at the moment. Walk down the baking aisle of your local supermarket and it is either bare of eggs, limiting the purchasing of eggs or (worse) stocked with European imports. As with most farming at the moment, costs to produce eggs have soared since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. For months, egg producers have pleaded with supermarkets to increase the price they pay so that farmers can break even. Tim, who has 16,000 birds, is thankful he isn’t affected. He cut ties with supermarkets more than a year ago to sell to North Dorset egg packers Foots Eggs, who deliver to smaller independent shops and restaurants locally. Nevertheless, the Beaminsterbased egg producer has been speaking passionately to news organisations to ensure his fellow farmers have a voice: ‘The supermarkets haven’t increased the price [they pay farmers] – they use the excuse that with the cost of living crisis the consumers wouldn’t be able to afford it. But they have put up the [price of] eggs. They just haven’t passed the increase on to the producers.’

Nobody came

Thanks to the supermarkets actions (or lack of), the situation really is a “bugger’s muddle”. In April, the British Free Range Egg Producers Association (BFREPA) called a crisis meeting with the supermarkets, to be held at the Pig and Poultry Fair in May. Tesco, Morrisons, Sainsburys, Marks & Spencers, Waitrose, ASDA, Aldi and Lidl were all invited. Not one attended. Warnings duly ignored, the supermarkets now have no eggs and are continuing to anger farmers by blaming the shortage on the Avian Influenza outbreak. ‘They’re using that as an excuse,’ says Tim. ‘The consumers are very frustrated. The supermarkets are using it as a smokescreen against the real reason, which is that they simply haven’t paid for the eggs. ‘What we are seeing now is only the tip of the iceberg. We’ve lost nearly five million pullet placings

Tim Gelfs’ white eggs, as featured in Eggism (The BV, May 21 Image: Heather Brown

where people haven’t invested in a new flock over the past ten months. We won’t really feel the effects until next year.’

Edwina and the eggs

The national flock has decreased by 13 per cent. Sheds that previously housed thousands of birds now sit empty, waiting for the price of eggs to rise to a point where farmers can make a profit. In the last two weeks, the cost of eggs has risen in supermarkets by more than 20 per cent – and it will continue to rise as the number of eggs decreases. ‘Already, Sainsburys have been importing Italian eggs,’ says Tim ‘I reckon by Christmas they will all be importing eggs, which is quite frustrating as they are all committed to Lion Coded British eggs. So they have thrown their commitment out the window.’ European eggs do not have the same vigorous salmonella testing as the UK industry, meaning that vulnerable people (children, pregnant women and the elderly) shouldn’t eat these eggs runny. Farmers are now worried about the irreparable damage that is being done to consumers’ confidence in something as simple as an egg. In the 1980s the industry experienced a similar situation when Edwina Currie, the then Health Minister, said that there was a Salmonella epidemic in British eggs. She later had to resign from her position due to the damage she caused to the industry with her false statement. ‘It’s taken us 30 years since Edwina Currie and the Salmonella threat in the 80s to get the eggsper-capita back to where it was.’ says Tim. ‘Where is it going to be at the end of this crisis? People will switch from eggs and go and buy something else and we will struggle to get them back.’ The National Farmers Union has called for the government to intervene and ensure that farmers’ livelihoods are secured, but the new DEFRA Minister Mark Spencer has said that the Government will not step in.

More teeth required

However, West Dorset MP Chris Loder has been in direct communication with his constituent Tim and has taken the matter to Westminster. He gave an impassioned speech at the Westminster Hall Debate Support for British Farming: ‘The Groceries Code Adjudicator (GCA) – the regulator for supermarkets, farmers and price controls – needs to be given more teeth and to have greater control so that our farmers are not suppressed. Most of my local farmers in West Dorset tell me they don’t want to receive government subsidies. ‘But they have to. And why do they have to? More often than not, they are forced into that position because the GCA is not doing its job and is allowing supermarkets to dominate the field … In my opinion the Government is ultimately subsidising supermarket profits. That has to stop.’ Tim Gelfs is calling for new legislation to give farmers the confidence to invest in producing food. He says: ‘I think the government needs to be serious about food security and introduce some legislation to take some of the power away from the supermarkets and give it back to the farmers. ‘That’s not just eggs, that’s all products, else we’ll be back at this point again when we have another crisis. And I think the crises are going to be more often because of climate change and civil unrest around the world. ‘When there’s fights in aisles over eggs like there were over toilet roll, then the government will step in. At the moment it’s all lip service because although we’ve got a shortage of eggs, it’s more of an inconvenience than a disaster. But it’s only going to get worse.’ At the Westminster Debate, Chris Loder concurred with his constituent’s view on the outlook for the British egg industry: ‘I am afraid this is the beginning of a ticking time bomb. If ever there was a time that this House had to urge the Government to give the Groceries Code Adjudicator the teeth it needs to sort this mess out, it is now. ‘If we think there is difficulty in the market today, I can assure this Chamber that in less than 12 months’ time we will not be in a situation where we have a reduction in eggs available for sale to consumers—we will be lucky if we have any eggs on the shelves at all.’

‘In my opinion the Government is ultimately subsidising supermarket profits.’

Never been to the races? Me neither …

My first visit to a racecourse – on a windblown and wet November day in Wincanton – wasn’t at all what I expected, says Laura Hitchcock

A trip to the races always looked like it might be fun. But … to be honest, it isn’t really for the likes of me, is it? My dad was a milkman and we lived in a big Essex town – horses were as much a part of my home life as art, ballet and opera. Not. And yet I grew up horse-mad, absorbing everything I could from books – Ruby Ferguson’s Jill series? The Pullein-Thompson sisters’ entire back catalogue? Misty of Chincoteague (though I still have no clue where that actually is) – I had them all). I paid attention, I studied riding theory just in case. I finally got on a horse for real in my 20s – turns out that you can learn a surprising amount from books, but a real horse definitely helps. Children’s books about gymkhanas and showjumping abounded, of course, but horseracing? Not at all. If you’re not introduced to it or grow up with it, then it’s frankly a closed, mysterious and mildly intimidating world, even to a grown up. So when we were invited to Wincanton Racecourse for Badger Beers Chase Day, of course I was keen but swiftly went looking for help – we’re incredibly lucky to have a pair of the UK’s top Thoroughbred breeders, Lucy and Doug Procter, writing for us.

The biggest question

The first worry, obviously, was what do you wear to go racing? Well, apparently, on your average weekday race meet, it’s pretty much anything goes ‘You’ll see Never mind the weather - everyone wears a hat and ignores the rain. All images: Courtenay Hitchcock

a lot of tweed,’ said Doug ‘but mostly because it’s what most farmers wear most days! Go with anything practical for the weather – a racecourse is an exposed place in November’. But we were attending on one of the biggest racedays in Wincanton’s racing calendar, which is slightly more dressy. Lucy offered some helpful hints on the ladieswear front: ‘Go for long boots with dark trousers or a skirt and woolly tights. I always opt for a thick polo neck sweater (or three!), and then add a scarf. There’s nothing more miserable than being inappropriately dressed for the weather, so a weatherproof coat is a must: most people will be in a tweed or plain coloured long wool coat, or a Barbour-type/beige waterproof overcoat. And if you’ve got a cap or some kind of hat it’s much easier than juggling an umbrella when it’s raining.’

First impressions

Feeling confident from our pro what-to-wear tips, we headed to the main gates on race day. It was busy and as we watched the queue we were fascinated by who was there. Because it actually seemed to be everyone. Tweed-clad country types hunkered against the rain in their battered wax jackets and flat caps. Sharply-suited men, clearly there for a ‘lads day out’ queued noisily behind retired couples happily chatting. We saw wellies and trainers lined up alongside Dolce et Gabbana and Dubarry boots. Doug was right – there really isn’t a type of person who goes racing. It was rapidly obvious that everyone goes. We’d clearly been missing something.

Working out the system

Once inside the gate, we bought a racecard (£3.50, and DO get one, even if you’re not planning on betting; the whole day makes sense once you have one), and soon worked out the system for what to see. Obviously the day revolves around the races, but we quickly understood that it actually starts in the parade ring (sometimes called the paddock). Head there first and see the

horses circling as they wait for the jockeys. I was surprised at just how close we were able to stand, and swiftly became aware that racehorses are... stunning. Powerful, It’s frankly elegant and a closed, very very different mysterious from the and mildly horses intimidating grazing in a world field on your Sunday walk. Now’s the point you want to look at your racecard and decide who you’re rooting for. The card’s a bit overwhelming at first – if you’re a statistician you’ll feel right at home – but there’s a key to what all the numbers mean, from the weights the horses are carrying to the names of the owner, trainer and jockey, how far they’ve travelled and a rough guide to current form. But if you’re a racing ‘pro’ like me, you’ll obviously eye up the horses as they walk past and … pick the prettiest one. Once the jockeys arrive and mount up, the tide of the crowd flows back towards the track. Usually the viewing areas are separated according to your ticket entry (the closer to the finishing post, the more expensive the entry price), but Badger Beers Chase Day was a

The packed stand at Wincanton on Badger Beer Chase Day

Single Enclosure Day, meaning anyone could stand anywhere. The stand was packed as most people chose to shelter from the weather, but, working on Doug’s advice, we headed for a gap at the side of the track, ignoring the shivering-sideways rain. I’ve obviously watched the odd horserace on the television – who hasn’t had a bet on the Grand National? – but the experience of standing right there on the track was very new and entirely unexpected.

Suddenly feeling it

The crowd, the weather – suddenly horseracing was tangible, something very physical. And then the horses pounded past on the first circuit – mere feet away from where we stood. The noise from the stand began to build, the weather was forgotten, and we found ourselves cheering with the crowd as the pace picked up for the second circuit, eyes glued to the big screen until they rounded for the final straight and came into view. We could actually feel the horses approaching. It’s a cliché to talk about the thunder of hooves, but what other word is there? The noise was visceral, sandwiched as we were between the horses galloping past and the wall of sound from the crowd hollering them home. As they passed the finishing post I was beaming – and keen to head straight back to the parade ring and do it all again. This time I tried an actual bet – again, don’t be afraid. The bookies make it easy, and the solid advice was ‘if you’re not sure, just go for the favourite. They’re tipped to win because they’re judged to be the best horse on the course, so it’s never a bad idea’. Nearly all the course bookies had banners declaring their minimum bet as £1 or £2, so don’t be ashamed to put on even a tiny amount, it really doesn’t matter (and some are contactless if you, like us, forgot to bring some cash. Just look for the sign on their board). We actually spent more on coffee than we did on betting, but it was a lot of fun choosing a horse, cheering them on and then going to collect our winnings (which we promptly bet on the next race, of course). We were part of the crowd jumping and cheering local horse Frodon to victory in the 61st Badger Beer Handicap Chase. We picked a couple of winners, we grabbed a (really good) burger from a stand, a warming coffee from another, avoided the busy bars and forgot to worry about the weather. We bumped into some old friends and saw many others doing the same. It turns out that horseracing isn’t about having a slightly seedy day of gambling, nor is it just for the poshest of hat-wearers politely

It isn’t a slightly seedy day of gambling, nor is it just for the poshest of hat wearers