Fast food for thought

Fast food marketing has changed our outlook, no matter how effectively Morgan Spurlock's film (an image from it is above) lobbies against McDonalds. Perhaps it's got something to do with the subject matter, deeply charged and culturally anathema to a veggie of long standing, not to mention former trade union activist.

Fact is I've just visited the kingdom of Ronald for the first time, with its giant M logo, now the most recognised brand worldwide, apparently. Ha, I thought, as we bloggers do, I must post something about this as my grandchildren guided me through the rituals of Happy Meals, the barbecue sauce dispenser and dumping all the wrapping and other detritus in a giant bin.

As is the modern way (oh dear, I sound old!) consumers do most of the corporation's dirty work. Our two, aged nine and seven, are not by any means regulars, but clearly know the ropes. Both mother and father take them from time to time.

One of the big attractions seems to be the sets of collectable toys that come with Happy Meals and there is also, bluntly, the problem of peer pressure - all their schoolmates are familiar with the burger chains, and the younger ones seem to have a crack-like addiction to those toys.

I have to steel myself against being a food fascist. Ban cheeseburgers and you start making them feel different. What happens when they're invited to a classmate's birthday party being held at a McDonalds? Instead, I try to explain my attitudes and talk generally about food, nutrition etc as part of their general education.

As an atheist tending toward the Dawkins wing of scientific humanism I feel obliged to take a similar stance vis a vis religion and tell them it's something they must decide about themselves. I have seen vegan friends generate monumental food disorders in their children with their obsessions, so I tread warily.

I'm heartened when our nine-year-old says she prefers GBK (there's one in the Mailbox) and I try to explain what it has come to mean when the phrase 'McJob' pops out of my mouth. She tells me there's a sign in the loo with the label McWater and proceeds to scatter the Scottish clan prefix liberally to words in the next ten minutes of conversation.

I ended up eating, and not gagging on, a veggie deli sandwich, as I watched a constant stream of customers, old and young, families and couples, corporate types with laptops, a whole Chaucer-like chunk of humanity travelling on the busy dual carriageway. At the drive-through window a builder's white van was followed by a BMW 7-series and one of the assistants tells me there's a queue when they open at 6am.

The speed of the turnround is phenomenal. As far as I could tell, my order was the only one that wasn't instantly available off the shelf - it had to be cooked to order (in a separate veggie fryer, I made sure).Everything else was more or less instant and came swathed in flimsy pieces of paper or inside polystyrene boxes.

McDonalds make much of their changed outlook and credentials (see www.mcdonalds.co.uk) - but then, they would say that, wouldn't they?

I have nothing against the burger as a food item beyond my obvious aversion to meat, which is a whole different argument, and there are brilliant vegetarian variations available. But the whole fast food experience is without soul. Eating and drinking should be an expansive and interesting experience for all family members.

How do other families cope?