Latest news with #Bovril
BBC News
28-05-2025
- Science
- BBC News
Bovril: A meaty staple's strange link to cult science fiction
Alamy Invented to make beef last long journeys to market, Bovril became a famous British kitchen staple. Less well-known is its link to an odd, pioneering science fiction novel. A stout black jar of Bovril with a cheery red top lurks in many a British kitchen, next to tins of treacle and boxes of tea. The gooey substance, made of rendered-down beef, salt and other ingredients, can be spread on toast or made into a hot drink, but what many people don't realise is that this old-fashioned comfort food has a surprising link to science fiction. The "Bov" part of the name is easy enough to decipher – from "bovine", meaning associated with cattle. But the "vril" bit? That's a different story, literally. In 1871, an anonymous novel was published about a race of super-humans living underground. The narrator of The Coming Race, who has fallen into their realm during a disastrous descent into a mine shaft, is shocked to learn that they are telepathic, thanks to the channeling of a mysterious energy called vril. "Through vril conductors, they can exercise influence over minds, and bodies animal and vegetable, to an extent not surpassed in the romances of our mystics," the narrator realises. Vril gives them strength, as well, rendering them capable of incredible feats. The people call themselves the Vril-Ya, and their society seems in many ways superior to that of the surface dwellers. (Read more from the BBC about the weird aliens of early science fiction.) Alamy The Coming Race was a runaway bestseller. It eventually became clear that the anonymous author was Edward Bulwer-Lytton, the prominent politician and writer (and, to give you a sense of his prose, the first person to start a novel: " It was a dark and stormy night…"). It became such a cultural touchstone that 20 years later, the Royal Albert Hall in London played host to the Vril-Ya Bazaar and Fete, to raise money for a school of massage "and electricity". In 1895, a writer for The Guardian newspaper started a review of a new novel with this statement: "The influence of the author of The Coming Race is still powerful, and no year passes without the appearance of stories which describe the manners and customs of peoples in imaginary worlds, sometimes in the stars above, sometimes in the heart of unknown continents in Australia or at the Pole, and sometimes below the waters under the earth." The work under review? The Time Machine, by H G Wells. And so you can see how, in the 1870s, when John Johnston, Scottish meat entrepreneur, was coming up with a name for his bottled beef extract,"vril" was a tip-of-the-tongue reference. Beef extract was not, on its own, a terribly compelling product. Johnston and other makers of the substance were responding to a demand for beef products in Europe, where raising cattle was prohibitively expensive, and the growth of cattle ranches in South America, Australia and Canada. How do you make a salty meat paste sound nourishing? By linking it to a fantastical substance with great powers There was no way to get fresh meat from these far-flung places to Europe. But rendering the meat down into a paste and sealing it in jars yielded a shelf-stable product that could make the long journeys involved. (Johnston was not the only player in the meat extract game – Justus von Liebig, one of the founders of organic chemistry, founded Leibig's Extract of Meat Company to commercialise his process. The company later went on to produce Oxo bouillon cubes and Fray Bentos pies.) How do you make a salty meat paste sound nourishing? By linking it to a fantastical substance with great powers. An excitable advert for Bovril in the program from the Vril-Ya Bazaar reads, "Bo-VRIL is the materialised ideal of the gifted author of 'The Coming Race'… it will exert a marvellous influence on the system, exhilarating without subsequent depression, and increasing the mental and physical vitality without taxing the digestive organs. It is a tonic as well as a food, and forms the most Perfect Nourishment known to Science." More like this: • Can your body become intolerant to meat? • An odd-tasting oil that packed a healthy punch • The rise and fall and possible rise of the oyster The Coming Race has had a somewhat ominous afterlife. Members of the theosophy movement, including the spiritualist medium Madame Blavatsky, claimed that vril was real. Willy Ley, a German rocket enthusiast writing about conspiracy theories in Germany during the rise of the Nazis in the magazine Astounding Science Fiction, said there was a society in Berlin that believed in vril: "They knew that the book was fiction, Bulwer-Lytton had used that device in order to be able to tell the truth about this 'power'. "The subterranean humanity was nonsense, Vril was not. Possibly it had enabled the British, who kept it as a State secret, to amass their colonial empire." Odd bedfellows, for a cup of meat tea. -- If you liked this story, sign up for The Essential List newsletter – a handpicked selection of features, videos and can't-miss news, delivered to your inbox twice a week. For more science, technology, environment and health stories from the BBC, follow us on Facebook, X and Instagram.
The National
28-05-2025
- Sport
- The National
Of course cup success meant more to Aberdeen than Celtic
As chance would have it, the print press were seated in the Aberdeen side of the national stadium, close enough to see the grown men cry, the parents bearhugging their offspring just a little too tight for the kids to actually enjoy the moment (or breathe) and that instant where all the misery and expense that comes with following a club that doesn't win very much is finally rewarded. Every last pound spent on cold, greasy pies and watery Bovril, every last hour schlepping around the country, this was what it was for. It was brilliant. Read more: It was also hard not to feel just a little jealous. I have attended five such occasions supporting my team. Not since 1991, when I was eight, have I seen them win. And when I did, I was probably too young to really appreciate it. Instead, I was the kid being hugged too tight, as my dad grabbed my brother and I under each arm and banged our heads together after every goal. Entirely uncharacteristically for Motherwell, they would have to score four, wouldn't they? (Image: Jane Barlow - PA Wire) There would have been many a headache too in the Granite City come Sunday morning, Monday morning and probably Tuesday morning as well, as a city starved of Scottish Cup success since their heady heydays of the late 80s and early 90s celebrated the old trophy coming north once more at long, long last. I have also witnessed both sides of the Old Firm win trophies on many, many occasions. Mostly professionally, but also, more's the pity, more times than I would have cared to as a punter too. One thing I have heard and read quite a lot since the weekend as the wonderful videos of the Aberdeen celebrations have circulated around social media is that 'it just means more' to fans of non-Old Firm clubs. Or probably more specifically, given the recent domestic domination that Celtic have enjoyed, that a Scottish Cup win for Aberdeen on Saturday meant more than it would have to those in the other half of Hampden. And you know what? I think that's probably true. But it's all about the context. Would a Scottish Cup win mean as much to Aberdeen next May as this one did? It would mean a great deal, sure, but no, it wouldn't. Such has been the run of Celtic success that even trebles have become a somewhat regular occurrence, but even if securing another on Saturday probably wouldn't have meant quite as much to their fans as that one singular Scottish Cup did to the Aberdeen support, I well remember the scenes back in 2017 when the shoe was on the other foot. The explosion of joy, the noise, the passion, it was all there around the green and white half of Hampden back then as Tom Rogic's mazy run and finish in the dying embers of the season delivered an 'Invincible' treble-winning campaign for Celtic. You can't tell me that feat – that moment - didn't mean as much to the Celtic fans as Saturday's victory did to their opponents. (Image: SNS Group) What it all boils down to I suppose is that it is the out of the ordinary achievements that really move us as football fans. And in fact, extending the argument further, with the Celtic support these days so conditioned to success, a defeat in a final to a 'lesser' opponent probably stung them more than it would have stung an Aberdeen fan to lose to Celtic. What may move fans of one club may not move fans of another quite so much. Making history might mean something different to each. For Celtic fans, any one Scottish Cup win amid a sea of them may not particularly stand out in the mind, or carve out a special place in the heart. A treble might. A European trophy definitely would. That's just the reality of differing expectations. No Celtic fan will likely forget Adam Idah's last-gasp goal to win the cup last year, mind you, but that is in large part because the triumph was over Rangers. Again, context. How long would the euphoria of a penalty shootout win over Aberdeen last? A few hours? The memory of it probably not much longer. By contrast, no Aberdeen fan who was at Hampden on Saturday will ever forget it. Even as a neutral, neither will I. Celtic's routine swatting aside of Inverness to win the cup under Ange Postecoglou, on the other hand? I can barely recall it. I remember the equally predictable triumphs over Motherwell in both League Cup and Scottish Cup a few years prior, but had it not been for my personal stake in those games, would they even register? I wonder, in fact, how fondly even Celtic fans recall these contests. In the words of my dear old dad, had Motherwell won either of those cups, you wouldn't have seen me for a week. He passed on last year, and he never did get to see his team win another trophy. I'm glad we got to share that one though, all those years ago, even if a dull headache was the price. (Image: Jane Barlow - PA Wire) And this is the point. It's the sharing of these extraordinary moments with the people you have also shared the misery with that really mean the world. For your club, that might be a first Scottish Cup in 35 years. Or for another, it might be a last-minute treble-winning goal. In football, no one's joy is more worthy than anyone else's. It's out there on offer for any of us. It was Aberdeen's turn on Saturday, and it was glorious. And it is the promise of these moments, whatever they may be to your club and however distant they may seem, that keep us all coming back.
The Herald Scotland
28-05-2025
- Sport
- The Herald Scotland
Of course cup success meant more to Aberdeen than Celtic
Every last pound spent on cold, greasy pies and watery Bovril, every last hour schlepping around the country, this was what it was for. It was brilliant. Read more: It was also hard not to feel just a little jealous. I have attended five such occasions supporting my team. Not since 1991, when I was eight, have I seen them win. And when I did, I was probably too young to really appreciate it. Instead, I was the kid being hugged too tight, as my dad grabbed my brother and I under each arm and banged our heads together after every goal. Entirely uncharacteristically for Motherwell, they would have to score four, wouldn't they? (Image: Jane Barlow - PA Wire) There would have been many a headache too in the Granite City come Sunday morning, Monday morning and probably Tuesday morning as well, as a city starved of Scottish Cup success since their heady heydays of the late 80s and early 90s celebrated the old trophy coming north once more at long, long last. I have also witnessed both sides of the Old Firm win trophies on many, many occasions. Mostly professionally, but also, more's the pity, more times than I would have cared to as a punter too. One thing I have heard and read quite a lot since the weekend as the wonderful videos of the Aberdeen celebrations have circulated around social media is that 'it just means more' to fans of non-Old Firm clubs. Or probably more specifically, given the recent domestic domination that Celtic have enjoyed, that a Scottish Cup win for Aberdeen on Saturday meant more than it would have to those in the other half of Hampden. And you know what? I think that's probably true. But it's all about the context. Would a Scottish Cup win mean as much to Aberdeen next May as this one did? It would mean a great deal, sure, but no, it wouldn't. Such has been the run of Celtic success that even trebles have become a somewhat regular occurrence, but even if securing another on Saturday probably wouldn't have meant quite as much to their fans as that one singular Scottish Cup did to the Aberdeen support, I well remember the scenes back in 2017 when the shoe was on the other foot. The explosion of joy, the noise, the passion, it was all there around the green and white half of Hampden back then as Tom Rogic's mazy run and finish in the dying embers of the season delivered an 'Invincible' treble-winning campaign for Celtic. You can't tell me that feat – that moment - didn't mean as much to the Celtic fans as Saturday's victory did to their opponents. (Image: SNS Group) What it all boils down to I suppose is that it is the out of the ordinary achievements that really move us as football fans. And in fact, extending the argument further, with the Celtic support these days so conditioned to success, a defeat in a final to a 'lesser' opponent probably stung them more than it would have stung an Aberdeen fan to lose to Celtic. What may move fans of one club may not move fans of another quite so much. Making history might mean something different to each. For Celtic fans, any one Scottish Cup win amid a sea of them may not particularly stand out in the mind, or carve out a special place in the heart. A treble might. A European trophy definitely would. That's just the reality of differing expectations. No Celtic fan will likely forget Adam Idah's last-gasp goal to win the cup last year, mind you, but that is in large part because the triumph was over Rangers. Again, context. How long would the euphoria of a penalty shootout win over Aberdeen last? A few hours? The memory of it probably not much longer. By contrast, no Aberdeen fan who was at Hampden on Saturday will ever forget it. Even as a neutral, neither will I. Celtic's routine swatting aside of Inverness to win the cup under Ange Postecoglou, on the other hand? I can barely recall it. I remember the equally predictable triumphs over Motherwell in both League Cup and Scottish Cup a few years prior, but had it not been for my personal stake in those games, would they even register? I wonder, in fact, how fondly even Celtic fans recall these contests. In the words of my dear old dad, had Motherwell won either of those cups, you wouldn't have seen me for a week. He passed on last year, and he never did get to see his team win another trophy. I'm glad we got to share that one though, all those years ago, even if a dull headache was the price. (Image: Jane Barlow - PA Wire) And this is the point. It's the sharing of these extraordinary moments with the people you have also shared the misery with that really mean the world. For your club, that might be a first Scottish Cup in 35 years. Or for another, it might be a last-minute treble-winning goal. In football, no one's joy is more worthy than anyone else's. It's out there on offer for any of us. It was Aberdeen's turn on Saturday, and it was glorious. And it is the promise of these moments, whatever they may be to your club and however distant they may seem, that keep us all coming back.
Press and Journal
21-05-2025
- Sport
- Press and Journal
EXCLUSIVE: Aberdeen legend Jim Hermiston on wrecking Celtic's treble dream in 1970... and confiscating beer from Hoops fans
Having destroyed Celtic's domestic treble dream in the 1970 Scottish Cup final, Jim Hermiston had to inflict further misery on Hoops fans… by confiscating their beer as a police constable at Pittodrie. Former defender Hermiston was a Hampden hero when Eddie Turnbull's Aberdeen side shocked Celtic 3-1 in the final. Fast forward to 1975 and Hermiston was pitched in at the deep end when instructed by the officer in charge to police the Celtic away fans at Pittodrie. Hermiston had shocked Scottish football when retiring from the game while Aberdeen captain to take up a career in the police force. Instead of harassing the ex-Don, who wrecked their domestic treble bid in 1970, the Celtic fans bought him Bovril. Now based in Brisbane, Australia, Hermiston explained: 'For my first game in the police I was in the Celtic end at Pittodrie. 'The officer in charge said 'you go in amongst the Celtic supporters'. 'I had to take the beer off them when they were going into the ground. 'As the game progressed fans came down to say there's a Bovril at the top of the stairs for you. 'I had about 30 odd cups of Bovril waiting for me during the game. 'I said to them 'remember you used to call me names, now you're getting me Bovril'.' When the Dons won the League Cup in 1976, Hermiston was on duty as a police constable. He proudly walked in front of the open-top bus, clearing a path down Union Street. In 1970 Jock Stein's Celtic were red hot favourites for the final, having already secured the league title and League Cup. The Parkhead club also had a European Cup final looming after the showdown with Aberdeen. Celtic would lose the Euro final 2-1 to Dutch club Feyenoord. The first of a double cup final heartache was delivered by the Dons. Hermiston admits his involvement hung in the balance due to injury. Hermiston, affectionately nicknamed 'The Hermit', said: 'There was a real fear I wouldn't make the final. 'I got a bad injury against Morton about six weeks prior to the final. 'Eddie Turnbull said there was a reserve match at Pittodrie on Tuesday night before the final. 'He told me to run my legs off in that match and if I came through unscathed I would be in the team for the final. 'No-one else knew about that. 'My old determination kicked in for that reserve match. 'I ran and ran and fired into tackles. 'When he said I was playing in the final the manager said my job was to mark Bobby Murdoch, who was a great player. 'Thankfully it worked out alright.' Hermiston signed for Aberdeen from Bonnyrigg Rose in 1965. He made 270 appearances from the Dons before joining the police force. Aberdeen triumphed in the final courtesy of a Joe Harper penalty and a Derek McKay double. Hermiston, 77, said: 'Celtic were the odds-on favourites but we didn't have any fear as we were such a young team. 'Before the final Eddie Turnbull told us to enjoy the game, play for each other and do our jobs. 'We had a good defence. 'And we knew if we defended well and got the ball up to Joey (Harper) we would have a chance of winning. 'We got stuck in and didn't have any fear. 'I came from a country village so to play in front of more than 100,000 in a final was unbelievable. 'At the end of the game I could hardly talk. 'I didn't realise I had been shouting so loud and was hoarse. 'The homecoming was brilliant. 'When we got to Aberdeen it was unbelievable, just wonderful on that double decker bus.' Hermiston will stay up late to watch the final, which kicks off at midnight Australian time. Son James will wear his shirt from the 1970 final when cheering on Jimmy Thelin's side at Hampden. His grandson Ben, who plays for Highland League club Deveronvale, will also be at the final. Hermiston said: 'I hope my 55-year-old Scottish Cup jersey my son will wear will send good vibes on to the pitch. 'It is only 11 v 11 on the pitch. 'I'm sure Aberdeen will be really pumped up for the final and ready to give it their absolute all.'
The Irish Sun
16-05-2025
- Business
- The Irish Sun
Fulham's posh new £100m stand is like no I've ever seen – but amid the luxury is a big departure from football's history
IT'S half-time and I'd normally be setting off to tackle a tortuous queue for a pint and a pie, as is the norm after 45 minutes of Prem action. But what's this — waiters hovering with champagne and fine wine? Dainty pastries, plush seating and cocktail terraces? Toilets fit for royalty? This is like no football ground I've ever seen. 7 Fulham FC's new Riverside stand will make matchday something more like a mini-break in Dubai Credit: Supplied 7 The south-western corner overlooks what will soon be an infinity pool and hotel Credit: Supplied 7 The pitchside view of the Riverside Stand at Fulham's Craven Cottage stadium Credit: Rex This is The Sun was invited to see the new Sky Deck hospitality area, three floors of five-star lounges, bars and restaurants in the West London club's historic Craven Cottage stadium — the capital's oldest football ground. The club's US billionaire owner Dubai . With many smaller Premier League clubs struggling to bring in the cash to keep up with transfer fees and wage bills, money-spinning sidelines like this could offer salvation. READ MORE FULHAM NEWS Under money into their clubs to keep them afloat. But they can expand to create new revenue streams and grow the business — and get more value from stadiums, which often sit idle when there is no game on. Fulham are unashamedly chasing after cash from locals in this well-heeled part of London. The hospitality facilities operate as a members' club on non-match days, with fees of £780 to £1,200 a year — footie not included. Most read in Football But to enjoy the Sky Deck experience when Fulham play Sky Deck day prices vary, but a Premier League club's incredible new stand boasts ultra VIP experience with rooftop bar and POOL And with many Fulham supporters already seething at sky-high prices (regular season tickets cost up to £3,000), one wonders what message such an opulent project sends to the loyal, less loaded club followers. We are greeted with a glass of fizz and, as soon as we sit, smiling staff bring endless plates of beef carpaccio, scallops and venison. There is no denying that the development is breathtaking. Guests enter hospitality via a grand spiral staircase from the stylish Riverside concourse, where fans with regular tickets can enjoy food and drink. But upstairs lies a different world. Three hours before kick-off, our lanyard gives access to three vast floors with different theming, going from cruise ship to We are greeted with a glass of fizz and, as soon as we sit, smiling staff bring endless plates of beef carpaccio, scallops and venison. 7 Footie fans will be able to swap their pint for cocktails with a view over the Thames Credit: Supplied 7 No pies at half-time for Fulham fans, as smiling staff bring endless plates of beef carpaccio, scallops and venison Credit: Supplied No balti pies or Bovril here, this is a bream and bottomless bubbly joint. On the top floor are two open-air terraces, where margaritas are lined up on the bars. The south-western corner overlooks what will soon be an infinity pool and hotel. 'Weep into our beer' Panoramic views take in landmarks such as Wembley Stadium, The Shard, St Paul's Cathedral and Chelsea's Stamford Bridge ground. Craven Cottage opened as Fulham's ground in 1896 — but the club's new showpiece has little to remind you that you are in a football stadium at all. There is barely any reference to Fulham FC other than some subtle black and white details on the walls, a single tile in the unfinished pool and a club badge on a walkway from the directors' lounge. This is a football stand for people who don't necessarily like football. One of the pricier hospitality tiers gets you private dining for ten people, with a signed team shirt draped over each seat. But you won't see pictures of Fulham legends like Jimmy Hill, Johnny Haynes or George Best. And fans in hospitality rarely glimpse the pitch, unless at their seats. The architecture focuses on the Thames — this is the stretch where Oxford and Cambridge battle it out in the Boat Race , an event that's an extra cash bonanza for the club. This is a football stand for people who don't necessarily like football. Of the 29,600 fans who can fit into Craven Cottage, 2,303 would now be using hospitality seats. Most clubs offer some level of luxury for sponsors, guests and VIPs. But for the posh rooms to seemingly hide the club's football heritage feels like a new departure in the game. Fan forums are buzzing with debate. @Lighthouse, a fan since the 1960s, wrote on Friends Of Fulham: 'Football has become a class thing now. The haves will always look down on the rest of us.' But many feel that Khan is merely doing what is necessary for the club to survive and thrive without moving from its old ground. @cookieg wrote: 'If it brings in a few more quid for the club then good.' And @Logicalman chipped in: 'We can all weep into our beer glasses for how it used to be. But it just means we are refusing to accept that life keeps moving on.' As we sit in the sunshine sipping cocktails, it's easy to forget we're there to watch a match — Fulham v Europe alive. The Everton end is in full song throughout the game (which the Toffees win 3-1). In the Fulham hospitality seats, there's not much noise other than the swishing of rowers passing behind us on the Thames. 7 Craven Cottage in 1959, as Tosh Chamberlain thrills the fans Credit: Getty 7 Fulham ace Willian Credit: Rex
