Marmite should be basking in the same warm prime ministerial glow as Weet-Bix right now, but the finance minister had other plans.
In case you’ve been buried under a pile of melted plastic for the last two months, school lunches have become something of a political norovirus. An endless spray of stories featuring pictures of “food” that, in some cases, looks the same as it would when coming back up, has been haunting the government’s hunt for cost efficiencies and David Seymour’s dreams.
In response to questions from Newstalk ZB’s Mike Hosking on Tuesday morning about whether we have a problem with school lunches or whether it’s all a “pile on from the unions, the teachers and the media to make David Seymour look bad?” prime minister Christopher Luxon levelled with him as you would a mate. “The bottom line is, look, some of the lunches aren’t up to scratch, but Seymour is all across the issue.”
Media, of which Hosking is most definitely not a part, have been cataloguing the “issue”. Like the political virus it is, the “issue” has spawned into many mini-issues, enough for there to be one for every letter of the alphabet. As a media outsider, Hosking volunteered some media analysis, opining that we have a story a day about school lunches because “someone’s a whiner”.
After last week’s verbal pas de deux over whether Luxon would have sacked Andrew Bayly had he not resigned, Luxon seemed determined to be more definitive this week. Instead of giving the appearance of jigging about nervously, trying to avoid the oratorical ninja stars Hosking was throwing at his head, this week, he had answers and culinary suggestions.
“Well, well, yeah,” he said, seemingly agreeing with Hosking about the vast proliferation of whiners. He had some advice for them: “Look, here’s the deal. I mean, if you don’t like the lunches, actually, just go make a Marmite sandwich and put an apple in the bag.”
Marmite sandwiches are what parents should pack for lunch if they’re unhappy about the school lunches their kids are getting. The good ol’ Marmite sandwiches Mike and Chris used to eat at school after they’d walked three miles barefoot in the snow to get there. The prime minister added the apple in the bag for vitamins and variety.
Owned by Unilever globally and manufactured by Sanitarium here, Marmite should be basking in the same glory as Weet-Bix — also owned by Sanitarium and beloved by Luxon — if it weren’t for a certain finance minister lobbing a grenade into this festival of parental responsibility lectures. Speaking to Newstalk ZB’s Ryan Bridge on Monday afternoon, Nicola Willis said, “if mums and dads are really unhappy, there’s nothing to stop them putting a Vegemite sandwich and a banana in their children’s school bag.”
“In the category of “Topics That Divide Kiwis,” Stuff’s Emily Brookes wrote in 2022, “the top entry must go to Marmite vs Vegemite.” Jars of Marmite were being flogged online for $800 during one of this nation’s most catastrophic events, Marmageddon. This country is passionate about yeasty spreads. Both politicians must know that this nation splits right down the middle on the issue and that their divided position could be read as a sign of cabinet disunity. Just two weeks ago, the most significant rift around the cabinet table was Seymour telling Luxon publicly “to get f..ked”, as one veteran Labour politician told Richard Harman’s Politik. By comparison, that was peacetime. This is war.
Perhaps Willis was just very attuned to her own words issued on February 24 about the taxation of charity and not-for-profits and decided to steer clear of a spread manufactured by a non-taxpaying church. Perhaps Willis just comes from a Vegemite household. Based on Luxon’s recollection of his lunches, it seems he comes from a Marmite one. Despite his insistence that Hosking and he ate the same lunch, Hosking has not confirmed his preference for spread or fruit.
For now, Promite might be the safest choice until polling determines the least politically damaging spread. In the meantime, go make a Marmite sandwich and put an apple in the bag.
