I n a surprising move, the “ woke wars” have a new target in their sights – the nation’s favourite sandwiches . According to a survey from baker Allinson’s, “younger Brits are ditching English classics like ham and mustard, in favour of fancy woke fillings”. But what are these fancy woke fillings – and what makes them woke, exactly? Can you now buy an “anti-Trump on oatmeal”, or a panini with trans rights and extra political correctness? Has the BLT become a BLM ? If we must have a generational war over what is essentially something you shove down your gullet at lunchtime, can it at least come as part of a disappointing meal deal ? The radicalisation of the sandwich isn’t a new thing.
For all this, I blame middle-class, middle-of-the-road M&S – because, frankly, they started it. In 2019, for Pride month, the nation’s favourite high-street department store added guacamole to the classic BLT, so it could sell the lettuce, bacon, tomato and guac combo in rainbow-striped packaging as an “LGBT” . It was the lunch sandwich no office-worker had been hankering for – none with tastebuds, in any case – and least of all gay people, who cringed at the prospect.
But it was all in a good cause, raising money for a charity for homeless LGBTQ+ young people. Predictably, social media filled its boots with an unhealthy dollop of outrage, but also a sprinkle of quite good jokes (“Hey mum and dad, I’ve got something to tell you..
. I’m guacamole”). This l.
