Lidls Pasties

A song from my past sung by locum village idiot and freelance ferret juggler Whistling Willy Jago (not so much a name as a medical condition). Willy discovered some pasties sold in Lidls that were described as "Cornish Pasties". Now, Cornish Pasties have European Protected Status – along with Champagne, Cognac and Melton Mowbray pies – and Willy was so affronted he wrote this song. Not only that, he wrote to Lidls and, amazingly, got a reply stating that they were aware of their error and were re-labelling the product as "Pasties" (although it would take a few months for the new labelling to be in all stores.) At last – a protest song that gets actual results! WARNING – Contains images of a sexual nature and mild insults to the Welsh and Germans (You can´t wait tom see the video now, can you?)

Responses

  1. Hi Andy, Being Welsh I am used to mild (and stronger) insults and this is a very funny song , so fair enough. Sounds a bit John Otway. Well done to Willy for taking on the might of Lidl, even though they had reconised their mistake. I must find something that annoys me about Tesco – there is plenty to go on! Cheers, Phil

  2. Hi Phil. Willy never sang this song in Wales as he has a strong instict for self-preservation. However, he did sing it live (cheack out the actual video of the performance at my YouTube channel) when he realised as he approached the end of the last verse that their was a German gentleman in the audience. See the live video for Willy´s masterly swerve at the last moment. Then he found out that the man spoke no English and was laughing with everyone else so as not to draw attention to himself. Willy likes to think that Lidls changing their packaging was purely down to his intervention and his (inaginary) army of fans that he threatened to unleash upon them.

  3. Thanks Suzanne. It is Willy who is the real hero. I must look out the reply from Lidls as I´m not sure if they were joking or actually took his diatribe seriously. Whatever – the result was the same. Victory for “proper job” pasties (as they say in Cornwall). Now I am fighting a lonely battle here in Murcia to stop a few local bars selling sad, top-crimped, carrotty pasties as “Cornish”. Barbarians, I tell you. Barbarians!