In these tough political times, what can we learn from Disney?

I wrote this wrote this on Sunday night, a few hours before the North Canterbury Quake, but held off publishing it immediately, with the idea of submitting it to the Spinoff. Obviously, the week has become quite a bit more shit since then, and I figure we could all do with a bit of a distraction from the impending Trumpocalypse, earthquakes, tsunamis and whatnot. So here goes.


Wow. What a shitter of a week. By now, we thought we'd have finally worked off the collective hangover we got from celebrating the first female president of the US. Instead we're still drinking to drown out the actuality that a small handed orangutan will be in the Oval Office at the start of the year. I blame Mowgli for teaching King Louie to be so human-like.

Never seen them in the same room

People have been dealing with the impending Trumpocalypse in various ways. Vice President Joe Biden, for example, has taken to boobietrapping the White House in preparation for Donald and Mike's arrival.

I am more of a practical problem solver, and thought it would be good to learn from others who have lived under a despotic regime: regular Disney townsfolk. So I sat down with a few beers (cos that's my other coping mechanism, remember), and watched Frozen and the Lion King, in order to find any advice I could.

1. Do nothing, just play along and hope for the best
This was the option all the lions in the Lion King took when Scar killed the widely loved and respected Mufasa, and I guess what Trump is hoping will happen for the next four years, now he's chased the Clinton dynasty away. Thing is, it really didn't work well, did it? Scar had no idea what he was doing, the kingdom fell to pieces, and the climate changed and the pride were completely unprepared to be able to make any changes at all. It's kinda like its some sort of metaphor for what's going on now... Which presumably means that Chelsea Clinton is out there somewhere eating bugs and having the time of her life before returning in four years time to a soundtrack of Elton John to reclaim the United States of America for the Clinton dynasty, with assistance from a wacky warthog/meerkat duo. You heard it here first.

Washington DC, 2020AD

2. Chase them away, then try and kill them
Here's a statement that's going to land me in controversy. Queen Elsa is somewhat analogous with Donald Trump. She has power that she has no idea how to control. And she's isolationist, she doesn't want her power to get out, so she shuts a gate/builds a wall. Also there's an army of trolls, though they seem to be quite nice, as opposed to Donald's Deplorables. When her ability to summon ice and snow out of nothing becomes simply too terrifying for her subjects, Elsa sees no option but to flee into the mountains, where she builds a large tower and sings a song that haunts the lives of parents everywhere. Not content to see her gone, Elsa is persued by an army intent on seeing her permanently disposed of. Of course, the army fails, but still, the intention is there.

Build a wall, build a wall
Can't hold them back any more
Build a wall, build a wall
Mexico will pay, you can be sure 

Similarly, in Beauty and the Beast, the titular Beast is confined to his castle, and furthermore all of his household are transformed into various items of crockery or utensils for carrying out housework. Given most of the President-elect's inner circle are actually already tools, this could be easier to pull off in Trump Tower than it may seem.

3. Sing!
Really, this should go without saying. All Disney heroes face adversity with a song, be it a heartfelt ballad alone in their basement bedroom, staring whist fully out the window, or a crowd marching to confront their common enemy and to drive him out of town. Even the drudgery of a day down the mines can be cheered up by whistling a merry melody! Cinderella, Simba, even Peter Pan and the Lost Boys didn't suffer silently: They fought back with a song in their hearts and an irritating ear worm in the ears of their audiences. It's not just a tactic completely devoid of historical precedence either: if Hugh Jackman has taught me anything, it's that the French aristocracy were overthrown by soulful anthems sung in the street, and a huge pile of rubbish. And the pro-Clinton team have form! Why can't Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Sprinsteen, Madonna, J-Lo, the Dixie Chicks and Katy Perry lead a mass musical uprising?

Sure, the villain usually gets a musical number too, but it's usually the least popular song, and in a depressing minor key. And the best the Trump-Pence campaign could come up with is Ted Nugent. (And apparently Kanye for the next 4 years til he runs in 2020).

3. Protest. Stick it to the man!
Popular uprising and civil disobedience? It's too obvious, surely! But without the people of Paris realising what a bad, bad man Judge Frollo was for wanting to kill all the gypsies, Quasimodo would never have won the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Sure, defences made out of molten lead helped, but a rioting underclass is what truly strikes terror into the powers that be. With story lines like that, how Public Enemy never got a contract to score a Disney film is beyond me. And in Lady and the Tramp, without Old Trusty altruistically throwing himself under the wheels of the dog catcher's cart, The Man, represented by Aunt Sarah and her Siamese cats, would never have been exposed for the tyrants obsessed with ridding the world of her nemesis, Tramp.

F#@k Tha Dog Police 

And it looks as though this may be the way the US is heading, with major protest across the eastern and western seaboards. Signs saying 'Not My President' are all well and good, but we need re passion. Where are the pitchforks and flaming torches? Because calling the Vice President-elect slightly immature names is all well and good, but it's probably going to get a bit old before four years are up.

Surprise and shock as Bono announced winner of 2016 Presidential Election

There was surprise and confusion expressed in the United States of America and around the world today, as U2 lead singer and one of nine reigning Glamour Magazine Women of the Year Bono was announced the winner of the 2016 Presidential Election, despite not having being amongst the candidates in the running for the post. Those in the running included Democrat Hillary Clinton, aiming to make history by becoming first woman to gain the job; and orange skinned Republican Donald Trump, looking to become the first Oompah-Loompah to take on a position in human governance. However the ageing rock star and self proclaimed saviour of mankind was cited for his humanitarian work and thirteen studio albums of exponentially decreasing quality and sales. It is the first time in the 241 year history of the United States of America that a foreign born rock star has been chosen as president.

The President Elect gets a few tips from his predecessor 

'For many years the House of Representatives has been discussing the possibility of announcing a President who not only isn't a politician, but who isn't even a citizen of this great country,' House Speaker Paul Ryan (R) said in a released statement. 'In 2016, with the two most unpopular candidates in living memory, it seemed to be the right time. As a House, we have come together in our beliefs that Bono's stated values of self-aggrandisement and forcing his lofty ideals upon the rest of an unsuspecting world match well with those of the United States. We are delighted to name Bono as our Commander in Chief and President of the United States 2016-2020.'

Bono himself reacted with trademark humility and grace to the shock honour. 'U2's music has always stood for the empowerment of every man, woman and child on this earth, and through this music we have managed to bring about the change that the world has needed. I'm humbled to be able to continue this change through this surprise elevation to a position I am sure I was born to fill,' he said. 'It's a Beautiful Day!'

Reaction amongst the other candidates has been mixed. Clinton, until recent days thought to be the unassailable forerunner in the election, was generous in defeat. 'The American people and their elected representatives have spoken, and I'd like to congratulate Bono on his election win,' she said at a somber reception for supporters in Brooklyn, NY. 'Our campaign can learn from this election race, and will come back stronger to fulfil what I believe is my destiny in 2020. #ImWithHer.'

Trump, however, was less accepting, sending out several furious tweets. 'CROOKED BONO steals rigged election!! SAD. Why won't Bono release his tax returns, hasn't paid in US or IRELAND since 1984.'

World leaders were quick to react to the unexpected news. British Prime Minister Theresa May was keen to point to the Irish citizen's rapid ascension to the top of US politics as yet another example of the creeping insidious influence of European politics. 'Brexit means Brexit,' May declared. 'An independent United Kingdom refuses to be beholden to Continental influence, be it from Brussels, Dublin, or Washington DC.'

New Zealand Prime Minister John Key, however, sent his congratulations. 'Look, obviously Bono is actually a pretty successful singer, and he likes his golf. I've been in touch to say, look, if you're ever in New Zealand get in touch for a round, or come and watch the All Blacks play rugby. I could get him into the dressing room if he wanted. And I sent him a mixtape Max made, see if he wants to put it on his next album.'

Outgoing United Nations Secretary General Ban Ki Moon expressed relief that maybe with a whole country to look after, Bono wouldn't be hanging around trying to do good at the General Assembly so much any more, and bemoaned that the singer's appointment hadn't come four years earlier.

With power to chose the Vice President, speculation remains rife as to who the  Upper House might chose as Bono's deputy. Rumour has it that chief amongst the names being bandied around is Kanye West, in preparation for a run at the top job in 2020.

The Hihi responds to a somewhat embarrassing Bird of the Year Results

Forest and Bird's annual Bird of the Year results were released today, and it was a resounding win for the majestic Kokako. Featured on the ten dollar bill, the Kokako polled 3,614 votes, over a thousand more than the second placed Kea, with the fan-tailed  Piwakawaka a further thousand votes back, despite the best efforts of sporadically relevant hipster collective Fly My Pretties. However, several candidates complained that the three top placed birds represented a staid elite establishment hellbent on reclaiming the power they have enjoyed for decades.

One of these was the antiestablishment firebrand the Hihi, who first came to prominence when it promised to 'build a huge predator proof fence, with a little gate' around New Zealand. When challenged initially on such a scheme, given its ability to prevent migratory birds such as the Godwit, or wind blown self-introduced species such as the Barn Owl, the Hihi had responded: 'The Godwits are sending us their murderers. Their thieves. And some Godwits, I assume, decent birds. But they come here illegally. We must act now to Make Our Forests Great Again.' Furthermore, after it heard a rumour that a barn owl may have once chased a pukeko from a barn, Hihi pledged to stop any more barn owls entering New Zealand 'until we know what's going on.'

Clearly, a controversial candidate for bird of the year. And a candidate wh would have been dissapointed to poll a paltry 243 votes. When asked to comment on today's result, Hihi simply pointed to a tweet it had sent out earlier in the day.

Of course, Hihi wasn't going to be allowed to rest on accusations of a rigged voting process without going unchallenged. When asked about the claims, Hihi pointed to the 'Lamestream Media believing crooked Kokako campaign lies.' 

'Read the treemails!' Hihi implored. 'Kokako should be locked up in an aviary, not running for Bird of the Year. Such a nasty bird.'

However, Hihi admitted not all media were against him, surprisingly singling out formerly revolutionary left leaning freedom fighters Radio New Zealand for thanks on social media.

It wasn't just the media picked out for their perceived corruption, however. 'The Spur Winged Plover is a corrupt puppet candidate sponsored by Crooked Kokako to take votes off me,' Hihi declared. 'Sad! The plovers send us their murderers. Their thieves. And some plovers, I assume, are decent  birds. Only Hihi can make the Forest great again.' When pointed out it had used the same accusations against the Godwit, Hihi declared such claims were lies, and he would instruct his attorney to sue any outlet making them. 'The disgusting Spur Winged Plover (check out the mating ritual) is being used by Crooked Kokako to discredit me.'

It has since been pointed out that there is nothing unusual or disgusting about the Plover's mating rituals. Indeed, the Hihi is in fact unique amongst birds, in that it mates face to face.

throughout the Bird of the Year campaign, Hihi insisted on portraying itself as a loose cannon, amtiestablishment firebrand, happy to play to the lowest common denominator with distasteful slogans such as 'Blackbirds matter? All birds matter!', and fiercely defending the size of its wings. 'My wings are great. I have the best wings, and believe me, I would not hesitate to press the 1080 button with those big wings,' Hihi declared. However further research points to a bird once firmly ensconced in the avian elite, appearing on a three dollar stamp under the name 'Stitchbird.' These revelations were put to Hihi, however were flatly denied. 'Lies. I'll be instructing my attorneys.' 

This young man started saving at 3 years of age. At 3 1/2, he owns his own firestation

Over the past few years, we've heard plenty about housing. The property market, initially in Auckland, more recently reaching into the provinces, has had more and more investment sunk into it, until it has reached a point described by economists as overinflated.

A balloon artist's impression of the Auckland housing market

The more money that pours in, with property prices climbing out of reach of younger buyers, the closer we are told we are coming closer to the market rapidly bursting, risking economic devastation.

A balloon artist's impression of the Auckland housing market following a sudden unexpected deflation

Regardless, it seems we are unable to peruse the media without reading the story of a student or worker in their early twenties who, having saved steadfastly since their early teens, and forgone luxuries such as food or friendship, has just taken possession of their first home or investment property. But the question remains to be answered: if these young property tycoons had buckled down and put money aside from an early age, what could they have achieved?

Luke knows. Right from an early age he knew what he wanted: 'Mummy, I want to buy a fire station,' he declared shortly after his third birthday.

So middle class he eats barely cooked fish

Luke started his financial success by earning money at home. 'I tidy my room, and do washing,' he stated, with his parents rewarding him with inconsequential sums of money as a crude form of bribery, in an attempt to protect themselves from stepping on stray Lego. Asked further about his duties, Luke stated: 'I did washing, and I broke a plate.' Expanding on his entrepreneurial portfolio, he found other ways to boost his finances: 'I found some moneys in Mummy and Daddy's room,' Luke explained.

Soon, he had enough to consider investing in the property market, and was the proud owner of a small two story fire station. Of course, like many youngsters making their first steps in the ladder, Luke did receive financial aid from his parents, who contributed thirty dollars whilst the building was on sale at Farmers. (But let's not concentrate on that as it ruins our narrative).

Luke with his property and two of his tenants, Sam Jones and Elvis Cridlington

Still living with his parents, Luke has little use for the fire station as a primary dwelling. With no mortgage to play, he has charitably allowed four small firemen to take possession of the facility, to use for their own purposes, free of rent. Asked if he one day plans to move in to the fire station himself, Luke admitted that he probably wouldn't, 'cos I'm too big.' Unashamedly, this is only the first step on to the property ladder for a young man who dreams of owning more grand properties.

Indeed, Luke says he is already saving once more in hope of buying himself some prime South Pacific real estate: 'I want to buy Tracey Island'.

The coveted island paradise

Netflix and Children does the #CheerioChallenge with Little Bellies Hoops and Loops

I hate online memes normally. Especially the Harlem Shake and the Running Man Challenge. Usually this is born out of a deep seated cynicism, driven by incessant media coverage and peer pressure guilt-tripping other individuals or groups into partaking in a largely irrelevant, pointless and cringeworthy task. Whilst often harmless, these crazes can have far-reaching consequences, making respected public leaders to look like tools in public, and lead to official government agencies to change the way they answer phones.

(On a slightly tangential note, official Labour Party YouTube video channel, why would you keep that video up and remind us he did that? Do you want him to win the election next year?)

But when I heard about the Cheerio Challenge this morning, I was instantly drawn in. Mostly because I thought it had something to do with delicious red cocktail sausages. I was slightly dissapointed to find it actually referred fathers piling little ring-shaped American cereal pieces on their sleeping infants, but heck, I'd just bought some cheap Australian rip off hoops with half an intention to review them, may as well put them to good use. So tonight, the family sat down to try out the #CheerioChallenge, before John Key kills it by stacking cereal on top of a sleeping Max. In fact, what's in that bowl behind the glass in this photo?

Anyway, it's fair to say our attempts were a disaster. My first mistake was, in my eagerness, not waiting for the kids to fall asleep before starting out. Given the difficulty stacking on a small moving child, we started tying using Dad as a base substrate. Handed a bowl of small banana flavoured hoops, however, the instinct of a toddler seems to be to eat them. No definitive photos exist, but I blindly fumbled my way to about four little circles, before they were snatched and scoffed.

Luke was actually relatively keen to give being a base for a cereal tower a go, and lay still enough for a tower of seven to be erected between his eyes, before getting the giggles. Emily then, in attempt to emulate her brother, actually lay down and starting building upon her own face, but only succeeded in throwing a small snack into her eye socket.

Of course, we were unable to threaten the record of 16!!!!! Cheerios in one stack. My hypothesis, looking at  my packet of Little Bellies Hoops and Loops (banana flavour), is the lack of sugar (0.2g per serving in comparison to a full gram per serving of Cheerios) affects the adhesiveness of each grain-filled miniature donut, both to adjacent loops, but also to the skin of a small child. I'd also question how the connective qualities of organic corn stack up (pun 100% totally intended) against oats.

Anyway, now I've partaken in the Cheerios Challenge, I imagine it will bumble along slowly, gathering momentum until Jono and Ben invite Cher(io) to come and do it on their show (artist's impression below), followed several months later by the Silver Ferns entering the court at the Fast Netball World Cup stacking  fruit loops on top of each other.

As for a review of Little Bellies Hoops and Loops (banana flavour): the kids seem to love them, but in all honestly they taste like stale dust. 2/10.

Double post! Book review: 'The Knock Knock Joke Book', and Balloon Animals of NZ: Low Hanging Fruit Edition

I love joke books! I used to anyway. I had so many growing up, and they were all better than the sorry excuse served up in The Knock Knock Joke Book, at least through my roses spectacled nostalgia. I've a vague recollection that Jase 'the Ace' Gunn even compiled an anthology of his own, presumably as part of intensive therapy to help him get over the trauma of Thingee losing an eye on national television. Unfortunately I'm unable to find evidence of this book of classic gags, so have resorted to a few last ditch measures.

Firstly, I have followed the sage advice of our prime minister, offered in reference to an equally scarce commodity: the Auckland house under $500,000. Unfortunately, going to trademe.co.nz and googling 'Jason Gunn Joke Book' did not return the 'quite a few' hits promised.

So secondly, I have tweeted the great man himself. I'll keep you updated. I feel my chances of a reply are somewhat higher than when I tweeted Frank Bainamarama about KFC.

Anyway. I bought the Knock Knock Joke Book in the hope I might be able to interest the 3 year old in humour, given his history of publicly rejecting my excellent gags and puns. And he loves the book! That's not necessarily a good thing. Normally I love forced jokes. The contents of this book aren't  forced though, so much as they are rammed down your throat with crudely drawn cartoons to explain exactly why the contrived situation you just read was funny: oh, I see, the person at the door was a carpet salesman, trying to draw maximum drama out of his arrival! How droll!

Granted: a few jokes are tireless classics. In fact, I think this one was even in Jase's anthology:

But too many rely on visuals to appeal to use in any real life situation. Like: why has this man got a seal on his head, and how am I going to convey that when I regale the joke during witty banter with chums down at the pub? Maybe prefaced by, 'hey dudes, wanna hear a gag that would be super chill if you had a seal on your head?'

Still other jokes just don't work at all. WTF is an island doing knocking at someone's door. Especially if it's landing on the roof with a parachute. FFS.

Fittingly, the last entry ends with a young lad running away (Omar goodness!), a strong metaphor for what anyone should do should they encounter this book.

0.5/10

And another thing!!! A week and a bit ago I presented John Key's finest career moment, sculpted in balloons. May I present today, modelled out of inflatable rubber, the climax of Minister of Business and Innovation and loads of other crap I can't be arsed googling Steven Joyce's time in politics. It is, of course, the Waitangi Dildo.

I was going to make some penis jokes at this point, but I think they've all been made already. So here's a picture of another phallus that Steven Joyce has the misfortune to be often associated with.

Balloon sculptures of New Zealand History: part 2

You know what's hard to make out of balloons? Most things actually. But I was pretty distressed when I looked at the comments from a previous post and saw a request from 'Anonymous' requesting a pregnancy hippo balloon animal. I have mastered a few models. My tapeworm is outstanding.

My roundworm isn't too bad either.

But I'm sorry, Mr/Mrs/Ms Anonymous, a pregnant hippo is alas outside of my capabilities. Still, I hope you enjoy the Wiggles concert, and can put the idea of Lachie and Emma sharing their purple wiggle and hot potatoes with one another out of your head.

Instead, I am honoured to present to you an abstract visualisation of a major innovation in New Zealand history. Most readers may know I am somewhat unimpressed by John Key, our country's prime minister. However, I will give him credit where it is due, in the invention of a whole new way of congratulating a sportsperson for a major success. Unfortunately hands are yet another difficult to sculpt model. I have managed four fingers each: a fifth is out of my scope.

But as you can see: the blue hand is reaching out to congratulate the orange hand on a major sporting endeavour: he has just led is team to a famous international victory. But low! What is this? A third, purple hand reaches in, clasping over the two already shaking appendages, not wanting to be left out of the sweaty three way.

God bless you John, for your innovative three way hand shake. Now immortalised in the form of a photo of three crudely shaped balloons.

If you like what you see, I can do children's parties.

Classic book review: The Munch Bunch Series

I loved the Munch Bunch as a kid. Before the age of seven or so, my two go to series that never failed me were the Mr Men, and the group of anthromorphic fruit, vegetables, and later a few select nuts who had escaped from certain doom at the green grocers, and lived at the bottom of the garden around the shed. Part of the allure was the almost unattainable aim of collecting the whole series, but
just as you thought you'd  completed the set on the back of the book, the publishers would release
more!

Anyway, Luke discovered all my old books at my parents' house today, so we've been having loads of read alongs. I'd forgotten so much, but generally the rules seem to be:

1. All the berries are naughty, but don't pay much in the way of consequences.
Billy Blackberry and his friend Scruff Gooseberry decided to build a tunnel for the purposes of stealing the stock of the local confectionaire in order to fully stock their own shop. Despite the seemingly incriminating evidence of the entire inventory of one shop turning up in the only other similar outlet in the neighbourhood overnight, it actually takes several days for local constable Merv Marrow to overhear a confession. But instead of arresting him on the stop, Merv puts together an elaborate plan involving secret tunnels and diversions to land Billy and Scruff directly in jail for a lengthy sentence of... 'Not long.'

Rozzy Raspberry got it a little bit harsher, though her punishment could have been labelled slightly more inappropriate and dangerous when she was locked out of her house overnight for playing a few pranks on her friends.

2. Racial stereotypes are OK 
The Munch Bunch have no difficulties making sweeping stereotypical generalisations of whole populations. To start off with, there's Ollie the cowardly French onion, who's always crying.

Pedro the Orange, who wears a sombrero and strums an oversized mariachi style guitar.

Lizzie the Leek, meek, subservient and wearing a Welsh hat.

Supercool the cool cucumber, who seems to be a caricature of a Rasta, with his oversized hat and glasses, though appearances can be deceptive I suppose.

I guess it probably took all the restraint the author and illustrator had when they created the New Zealand spin off character Charlie Kumara (pals with the other Kiwi special releases, Kiri Kiwifruit, Ted Tamarillo and Patty Passionfruit)

3. So are inappropriate fancy dress costumes
Olly hosts a fancy dress party, presumably one of those frat-house-style ones with a bad taste theme. Tom Tomato decides to try on some cultural misappropriation with a Native American headdress. But, holy crap, is that Professor Peabody behind him, one upping the inappropriateness in a Ku Klux Klan hood?

4. Quackerry is all the rage, medically
Nurse Plum is the resident medical staff, keeping a small hospital to treat any injuries or illnesses which may strike the Bunch. There's no doctor in sight, but that's OK, some nurses are plenty competent enough to manage on their own. Nurse Plum, however, does have an approach to medicine which could be  described  as unconventional, at least.

Rozzy Raspberry, who as you may remember is a bit of a trickster, presents with an arrow through the head, having been 'shot by Indians' (there's that cultural sensitivity being laid on thick again). It's a trick, of course, but never mind that for now. Rather than preparing for neurosurgery, or, you know, examining her patient adequately, Nurse Plum is quick to lay Rozzy Raspberry up in bed and prescribe a course of  milk and sweets. You may think this is just the good nurse being kind, but no, she does actually say 'this will make you better in no  time'. Of course, th injury being a cruel jape, the worst thing that happened was Rozzy got locked outside for the night, but were an actual traumatic brain injury to present, the moral of this story would be a lot darker than 'be nice to your friends'.

5. The Munch Bunch diet is awful
You may have noticed this already. Obviously, any attempt to eat a healthy diet with five plus fruit and vegetable servings daily was going to end in grim canibalism.  So the Munch Bunch turn to sweets. A new sweet shop opens, with 'every type of sweet imaginable', and the whole town has turned out. Not only that, but when sweets start going missing frim said shop, it's a tragedy  that resonates throughout the township, enough to bring several townsfolk together to thwart the thieves to end the biggest local crisis since  the last spring harvest.

And we've already addressed the sweets as medicine fiasco.

This sort of book may have been OK back in the loose eighties, but you're probably safer sticking to reading your toddler Game of Thrones these days. That said, at least the skateboarding Rasta cucumber isn't too cool to use appropriate safety gear.

Rafferty's Garden: Spinach, apple, broccoli and pea

Today, I think I've finally stumbled upon the secret to making a top selling baby food.  Simply write down all the fruit and vegetables you can think of on separate pieces of paper, add a couple of grains if you feel fancy, or a few super foods if you feel particularly pretentious. Write 'apple' and 'pear' down on a few more scraps. Put all the pieces of paper in a hat, then draw out three or four. Mix them up in a big blender and put them in tiny little sachets. Wait for the dollars to roll in.

There is little other reason that a lot of these combinations should exist. I've written at length several times about the complete waste of putting traces of wanky foodstuffs such as quinoa and wild rice so minuscule that there is no way they can possibly impact on taste. Yet food manufacturers persist in these strange combinations that have no other business existing. Acai berries in baby purée is pretty much like having a parliament containing a member of a party voted for by 0.075% of the population, just for the sake of the representation of self-important cockatiel-lookalikes who enjoy wearing bow ties, and that we can have a pretty purple seat on the schematic representation of the House of Representatives, despite underneath everything him being nigh-on impossible to distinguish from the opinions of the rest of the centre-right.

Anyway, today's offering was one of these bizarre combinations, and with the grand contribution of 4% spinach, I wasn't holding my breath for a leafy flavour sensation.

Ingredients: Apple (70%), Pea (18%), Broccoli (8%), Spinach (4%)

Here we see the first trick in baby food manufacturing. We all know a true combination of broccoli and spinach would taste revolting, certainly to anyone under the age of 65%, and force feeding would likely be the quickest way to loose the trust of your 4-8month old. But people like the idea of eating healthy, and of giving their offspring what they perceive will be good for them, so these are precisely the ingredients they want to see in their baby's purée. So Rafferty's Garden gives them these vegetables, but in amounts which surely will have no impact on the taste of a food the contains 70% delicious apple. Really, a waste of space.

First impression: This food is really green, and as I'm pretty sure I've stated before, green is seldom a colour you want to be putting in your mouth in a puréed form. Pond weed again? Slimy bird poo? Whatever it is, the spinach, broccoli and peas are certainly making an impression colour wise, if nowhere else. Lowers my expectations,  if nothing else.

Emily's reaction: She actually really likes this one. Not as much as the traditional fruity favourites. Certainly nowhere near as much as Rafferty's Garden's other amazing offering, the Apple, pear and cinnamon. But half the pack is gone reasonably quickly, and even big brother trying to force feed her his lunch can't put her off.

Bouquet: Strong and sweet, this is apples on the nose all the way. Do broccoli and spinach even smell? If they do, I wouldn't want to smell them in a baby food, so the fragrant hints of Royal Gala and Red Delicious were a pleasant surprise on this one. If only it tasted this good...

Taste test: Initially, like the bouquet, the apples predominate as this pleasingly smooth mush rolls back down the tongue. However, as it reaches the back of the palate, the leguminous nature of the pea component lends slight nutty hints, which in her after the food has long disappeared down the oesophagus. This gives the overall impression of a smooth, but not sticky, peanut butter: not truly repulsive, but something that would definitely be an acquired taste. I had predicted the spinach and broccoli wouldn't make much impression past the colour, and it turns out I was right.

Overall: 5.5/10. An unusual combination of ingredients seemingly thrown together in a haphazard fashion give a slightly unexpected taste, which grows on you over time I guess.

Enjoy: as an alternative to mushy peas in your Friday night fish dinner