Jamie Oliver - an indispensable part of British culture: his numerous cookery books, television programmes and restaurants have changed the way we use food in social settings.  Through his ‘Jamie’s School Dinners’ series and subsequent campaigns, he raised awareness of dangers associated with ‘junk’ food and initiated government reform of school dinners; he has even coined his own phrase ‘pukka tukka’, which is widely recognised as meaning ‘good food’. Jamie has an undeniably likeable and down-to-earth persona and has cultivated a refreshingly optimistic image of family, fun and the possibility of spicing up the ordinary with a cheeky twist. But is ‘pukka tukka’ something that everybody can buy into, or is it an ideal available only to some?

‘The Middle Class Handbook’ started off as a website and has recently been published as a short, humorous book. Written by a group of market researchers, it explores tastes typical of various categories of middle class people, with a focus on how they define themselves by consumer brands they buy into. The first category explored is entitled ‘Jamie Oliver’s Army’. Characterised as those persons in reasonably but not exceptionally well paid jobs, who have had to work harder in recent years and have latent worries about the impact of budget cuts, ‘The Middle Class Handbook’ defines the tastes of this category as conforming to traditional family values and ‘healthy’ living but seeking escape from the routine of work in small deviations from the ‘ordinary’.

‘Jamie Oliver’s Army’ love the Jamie Oliver brand because it promotes family and friends enjoying feel-good foods together in casual social settings while giving this food a new twist, making it both healthier and more individual. According to the market researchers this category buys into the self-expression that is denied in most workplaces, which is why Jamie’s individualisation of classic dishes such as burger and chips by introducing new flavours and combinations is so popular. It is important to ‘Jamie Oliver’s Army’ to know what is in their food and to eat healthily; Jamie’s nutritious but tasty alternatives appeal. This category of persons does seem to ring true and you can bet that they (we?) are also the biggest fans of ‘Jimmy’s Food Factory’, a programme in which Jamie’s friend Jimmy Doherty (who also wears the ‘Jamie Oliver’s Army’ classic with a twist checked shirt) demonstrates in a barn on his farm the processes by which mass-produced food is made. The ways in which manufacturers mess around with our food is bound to alarm middle class ideals and of course mass-produced food does not contain the love, care and self-expression of home cooking.

The view of food, both socially and nutritionally, taken by Oliver does seem ideal. But if it is so typical of a middle class taste, does this mean that the ideal does not stand for everybody? If so why? It is difficult to formulate an answer to the first question in quantifiable terms but the partial failure of school meal reform initiated by Oliver may give a general indication. The headteacher of a school in a socially deprived area of Merseyside told Varsity online that ‘Jamie Oliver has a lot to answer for’. The previous government introduced nutritional standards in response to Oliver’s petition. This has had some positive impact in that schools must now provide a nutritionally balanced meal at lunch time, whereas previously most were serving McDonald’s-esque food, which has a negative impact on the long-term health and short-term energy levels of students. Tuck-shops selling crisps and sweets were banned. In practice, the scheme was not effective: purchasing nutritional food for school canteens is much more expensive and funding was not increased adequately to be able to devise meals within budget easily. However, the biggest problem is that children who are not used to eating this type of food at home rebelled against the regime, causing some discipline problems in school such as children sneaking out at lunch time to buy chips. As soon as tuck shops were taken off the menu, they were replaced by packed lunches containing crisps and sweets. It seems that Jamie’s approach to food is not for everybody.

There may be many reasons for this but a very obvious one is the cost of eating Jamie-style. For example, on his website, Oliver has a recipe for chicken chow mein, which serves two. To purchase all the fresh ingredients (based on Tesco online prices) it costs £8.99; if you don’t already have cornflour, soy sauce and groundnut oil, it costs £13.36. Oliver’s recipe is nutritionally balanced and promises an exciting culinary experience. However, the price compares to just £1.50 for a 400g Tesco readymade microwave meal and for families on low to middle income, this would have to prevail. This is just one example; on the whole mass-produced food is far cheaper than cooking from scratch. 320g Tesco value chicken nuggets costs 75p and feeds a family of four. Those accustomed to considering cost first often become accustomed to eating mass-produced food, which is usually less healthy. Schools alone cannot change the habits of a lifetime and attempting a coup only results in rebellion; added to the fact that many of those not on free school meals now find school dinners too expensive.

Jamie Oliver’s aims are inspirational but the ideal is not realistically achievable by everybody. It seems that not everybody can afford to buy into the brand of healthy ‘pukka tukka’. And whilst the way in which celebrity chefs attach family values and respectability to healthy eating is a huge marketing success amongst ‘Jamie Oliver’s Army’, perhaps it adds a level of stigmatisation to those for whom healthy eating is cost-prohibitive.