Genetically modified foods may scare the bejasus out of our prize-winning chefs, but I'm all in favour of them. Take, for example, the humble onion. It's an everyday necessity in cooking. I mean, darling, don't even think about making a tomato sauce or a soup stock without one. The problem with onions is that they sting the eyes out of me whenever I chop them. I'm not talking about a gentle tear here and there; I'm talking about eye-streaming, duct-bleeding agony. No matter how many old wives' cures I've tried - wash the knife under cold water; cut only one end of the onion; face north while singing Faith of our Fathers - it never seems to work. Onions reduce me to painful tears.
Genetic tweaking
So if anyone does manage to produce a genetically modified onion that won't sting the eyes, I'll be first in the queue to buy one - and damn these woolly-minded liberal chefs with their professionally hardened eyes.
Personally, I can think of quite of few vegetables that would benefit from a course of genetic tweaking. Take cabbage, for instance. In fact, take it as much as you like - I can't stand it. Horrible stuff. The only way to stomach it is to fry it in butter and cover it with salt and pepper. Usually, this succeeds in masking its taste enough to pretend it's edible. Usually.
Oh no, cry the purist foodies. Steam it gently in order to get its full flavour and goodness. But if I were to steam it gently, it would taste even more like cabbage. And it's the taste I do my best to avoid.
And what of turnip? Generations of Irish people have complained that the Christian Brothers beat Irish into them. Far worse, however, was the food that used to be served in their schools - especially the turnip. Allegedly, this is a vegetable, but it was served in our school in a near viscous form. The shade of orange varied according to the degree to which the vegetable was boiled. Horrible stuff, only edible (if at all) under mounds of butter, salt and pepper. You don't need Michelin stars to tell you that butter and salt are not exactly the healthy option in eating.
And what of garlic? The stuff is disgusting. It gives me indigestion and bad breath. But high-flying chefs love this smelly bulb and throw it into practically everything they cook. It's almost impossible to avoid in restaurant main courses and I live in fear of the day when it becomes part and parcel of desserts. Garlic cheesecake, monsieur?
Masochistic
So what would be so wrong if the mad scientists got to work on these foodstuffs and made them taste like, say, chips? Would that not be a benefit for mankind, something to be proud of and a nice way to end the millennium? Children - and adults like me - would gladly eat their greens because they would taste like something worth eating.
I'm not a masochistic eater. If I don't like the taste of something I won't eat it and I don't care how much the delicacy costs or how fashionable it might be. I tried oysters once. It was like eating a ball of cold snot. But hey, that's just me. Tuck in if you like.
I can understand that chefs and producers like to pretend there is a necessity to emphasise the regional roots of vegetables. But it's not as if most people can tell the difference between a potato grown in Monaghan and one grown in Malta. Who cares? (By the way, the best way to eat potatoes is to smother them in butter and salt. Why can't potatoes taste more like chips?)
If regionalisation is so important, let's stress that the vegetables are being grown in pure Irish manure. First-class dung. Certainly not the sort of thing one wants one's children playing in, but great for growing vegetables and oh so romantic. All genetically modified foods can be marked as such, while emphasising the pure Irishness of the muck in which they were nourished. That seems like a nice balance to me.
Fighting science
Admittedly, I'd be a bit worried if the mad scientists started genetically modifying animals for the table. But let's not rush to pass judgment until we've tasted the product. What does cloned sheep taste like? Could someone send me a rack of Dolly so I can find out - purely in the interests of science, you understand?
No, it's no use fighting science in the kitchen. Science always wins. The microwave is here to stay. So is the Aga and the non-stick frying pan and food in tins. No one is going back to roasting buffalo in caves over wood fires. We are almost in the 21st century and it's about time that food caught up with the times. So what if it all looks like astronaut rations? As long as it tastes like chips, I'll be happy.