Growing up as a young healthy boy in Southern Ontario I had a passion for the finding the best knockers. They were not always easy to find and only the keen well trained eye could spot them either hanging around or lying right there at our feet. It was only as I matured into the late pre teens that I realized size was not the only criteria for winning the battle of the knockers or conkers as many a city folk called them. (Note: Conkers being derived colloquially from the word conk which means to hit on the head)
Why are they doomed? It is not for the lack of chestnut trees but rather the ever spreading morass of rules and regulations meant to keep us and our children safe from harm or these weapons of mass destruction. On a recent trip to the UK my wife’s relatives broke the sad news to me. It was now against the rules and regulations of UK society in most areas to play with knockers or conkers (you pick the word that best describes your nuts). The UK law makers believe it is unwise and thus unsafe to play with conkers for in battle pieces of the chestnut may fly off and puncture the player’s eye. Since it would be impossible to enforce the other option, making safety glasses mandatory for all youths playing with congers, we just banned congers and knockers.
Doomed like so many dangerous escapades of the youth. No longer could a youngster search for the perfect chestnut to be transformed with a simple but minimalist hole through it and a string attached into a weapon of mass destruction. Size did not really matter as the mid size, very firm, and less pulpy chestnut actually ruled over the big soft knocker. Ah, we do want to make this world a safer place. Doomed is the fun of conker versus conker in a battle to the finish. The upside is that there are more for the street chestnut vendors.
Not that I ever put HP Sauce on my chestnuts but I have used a lot of the brown liquid on everything from steaks to sausage rolls. HP Sauce to me was an icon of British taste. Once the Brits had cooked the flavour out of the meat the only thing redeeming was the fact the meat retained the ability to transport ever so effectively the HP Sauce to one’s mouth. It was and still is a great sauce. Many a savoury garnish has come and gone but the HP has never lost its favoured or should that be flavoured status. Now the Birmingham plant that produces the entire HP is closing and the sauce’s blending and bottling are moving to the European continent where Heinz feels the economies of production are better.
Everyone seems to be in a frenzy to change the decisions of learned men and women who see HP as just a food product and not as an icon of Britain. Will this mean the House of Parliament on the label will be replaced by some Dutch icon? Will the waters of Holland have the same chemistry as the waters of Birmingham? Since many see HP as synonymous with House of Parliament will the name change to EU Sauce? From my relatives to the highest ministers in Britain the uproar grows but sadly most deep down one cannot stop the mega corporations from doing their thing. Years from now, should the protests fail to garner Heinz’s reversal of policy, will we have forgotten HP as we pour EU all over our succulent steak?
After the loss of the conkers and knockers what is the mere loss of a sauce? A lot as these are all cumulative actions of the modern human and play havoc with the older generation. I can only hope the taste remains the same and the tears of 125 workers in Birmingham do not taint THE brown sauce passionately labelled HP. Sally and David please put some last bottles of Birmingham’s finest for my next visit.
Makes all the changes in the insurance industry pale in comparison. What could be more important than outlawed knockers and where a sauce is made?
