Why local is best

Hello, I’m an apple. A lovely Bramley Apple.

The nicest apple in the veldt, I feel a little tired, and a bit battered and bruised but I haven’t always been like this and I would like to tell you my story.

I was born about three months ago in a country far, far away: a beautiful warm country where the sun shines all day. I remember when I was just a blossom with big plans to be the tastiest apple the world had ever seen. I was in a shady orchard with a lovely river running at the bottom of the garden enjoying the sunshine.

When I started to sprout, I was sprayed with this nasty chemical stuff. The farmer said it was to protect me and help me grow, but it made me smell funny and feel a bit strange. I did have a growth spurt though and pretty soon was one of the big boys. I was looking forward to a spot of sun bathing so all the natural goodness in me could develop and help me to taste naturally sweet and juicy but suddenly this massive machine came and pulled me and all my brothers and sisters off the tree, snapped my stalk clean off! Which was a sure sign that I wasn’t ready to be picked.

The next thing I knew we were tumbling about in a big drum having wax squirted onto our skin, then we were tipped out onto a conveyor belt and all shot along bashing into each other and loads of apples I’d never even met before. Whoosh! We shot into a spinning machine and were all wrapped in a strange blue paper and then thrown into a box in a little solitary compartment that didn’t quite fit my shape properly that made me really uncomfortable as well as giving me bottom ache.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse guess what…they started to chill the box down until we were all shivering with cold. I don’t remember much about the next few months other than we rolled about with the movement of the sea and then got bumped about in different lorries and trucks.

But back to the present day, you’ve heard what I’ve been through and how pants a life I’ve had. My vitamins are long gone, I never had a chance to develop my natural energy giving sugars, I’m waxy, old and don’t taste anything like a properly brought up apple should and in all honesty I’m not good enough for you or your children to eat.

Hello, I’m an apple too, also a lovely Bramley Apple.

You’ve heard about my cousin from a land far, far away, poor thing, I feel so sorry for him and the poor people who have to eat him.

I’ve had a simple life; I blossomed in an orchard in Southwell, just north of Nottingham. The farmer who looks after me is a lovely patient man who believes in working with the land in a natural way as cultivators have done ever since Adam was a farmer; we apples go way back. He has let me grow up slowly, basking in the sun that we do have from time to time and he has nurtured me with natural and healthy food so I’ve grown big and strong and tasty – all at my own pace. One day he’ll pick me and with a bit of luck one of your kids might have me for their tea at Angels by Day. I’m organic, naturally strong and the kids will just LOVE me.