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Four Just Stop Oil activists jailed for plotting to disrupt Manchester Airport
Four Just Stop Oil activists jailed for plotting to disrupt Manchester Airport

Western Telegraph

time27-05-2025

  • Western Telegraph

Four Just Stop Oil activists jailed for plotting to disrupt Manchester Airport

Indigo Rumbelow, 31, Daniel Knorr, 23, Leanorah Ward, 22, and Margaret Reid, 54, had all been convicted of conspiracy to intentionally cause a public nuisance. Manchester Minshull Crown Court heard they were all arrested in August last year near to Manchester Airport. They were equipped with heavy duty bolt cutters, angle grinders, glue, sand, Just Stop Oil high visibility vests and a leaflet containing instructions to follow when interacting with police. Ward was also found in possession of a handwritten note which detailed the motive of the group to enter the airfield and to then contact the police to alert them of their activity. They were planning to enter the airfield and stick themselves to the taxiway using the glue and sand. Rumbelow, Knorr, Ward and Reid were all jailed for their roles in the conspiracy (Greater Manchester Police/PA) Following a trial the four defendants were found guilty in February of conspiracy to intentionally cause a public nuisance. A fifth defendant was acquitted. Rumbelow, from London, was jailed for 30 months; Knorr, from Birmingham, was jailed for two years; Ward, also from Birmingham, was sentenced to 18 months in custody; and Reid, from Kendal, Cumbria was also locked up for 18 months. Each was ordered to pay £2,000 in costs. Detective Chief Inspector Tony Platten, who led the investigation, said: 'We know this disruption was deliberately planned to coincide with the height of the summer holidays, targeting the public and their families. 'It was vital that we prevented this from happening. People work hard for their time off, and we have a duty to ensure they can enjoy it without fear or disruption. 'The group's actions demonstrated a complete disregard for the impact on the lives of those travelling via Greater Manchester, and I welcome the sentences handed down today.' Rad Taylor, from Manchester Airport, said: 'The safety and security of our passengers is always our number one concern. 'What these individuals were planning would not only have caused significant disruption for tens of thousands of passengers, but also a significant safety risk. 'The potential consequences of that do not bear thinking about.' In statements released by Just Stop Oil after the sentencing, the defendants said the action was part of a campaign for a treaty to end the extraction and burning of oil, gas and coal by 2030. Knorr, who had been remanded in custody prior to sentencing, said: 'Since my imprisonment began, things have continued to get worse. The world still sleepwalks towards hell. 'People are taking action because they are terrified of what rising temperatures and food shortages will mean for them and for their kids. 'So as long as the climate crisis keeps getting worse, people will keep taking action, prison or not.' Ward said: 'I'm not worried about my sentence, I'm worried about living in a world where crop failure means I can't put food on the table. 'I acted because doing nothing is unthinkable and because the science is clear. We have no other option.'

We've Got Food At Home–Why Copycat Recipes Hit Harder Now Than Ever
We've Got Food At Home–Why Copycat Recipes Hit Harder Now Than Ever

Forbes

time11-04-2025

  • General
  • Forbes

We've Got Food At Home–Why Copycat Recipes Hit Harder Now Than Ever

No kid ever wanted to hear the words 'we've got food at home' when all they wanted was a Happy Meal. It usually meant no drive-thru, no McDonald's money, and no break from family dinner. But somewhere along the way, that phrase started to shift. What once signaled denial now reflects creativity, control, and a little culinary pride—especially when what's at home is a copycat recipe for a McRib, a Crunchwrap Supreme, or the latest Starbucks drink you didn't quite want to spend $8 on. At the heart of this shift is the rise—not of the trend, but of the visibility—of copycat recipes: dishes designed to replicate well-loved branded items, often with a few tweaks for cost, taste, or dietary preferences. And while the internet is now flooded with TikToks, YouTube videos, and food blogs dedicated to reverse-engineering our favorite menu items, the instinct behind copycat cooking isn't new—it's just evolved. Today, there are entire corners of the internet ready to break down that new Starbucks drink you spotted on Instagram for when you don't want to splurge on another little grande moment. Before Taco Bell brought back its Mexican Pizza, or McDonald's revived the SnackWrap creators were reverse-engineering the famed snack from scratch to keep the craving alive. These recipes often come from a place of emotional or culinary curiosity—not controversy. Unlike handbag dupes, food copies are seen less as knockoffs and more as homage. Even so, copycat recipes aren't a novel concept. They've been around long before the internet gave us step-by-step videos. In the 1980s and '90s, publications like Gourmet, the Deseret News, and the Los Angeles Times ran reader-request columns where people wrote in asking how to recreate dishes they remembered from restaurants, theme parks, and food courts. A 1989 column featured a request for oatmeal-raisin cookies from Disneyland. In 1988, it was Medieval Times' herb-basted potatoes. By the 1990s, you could find 'homemade' versions of Sbarro's baked ziti and even shelf-stable pasta sauces like Healthy Choice. Some recipes came with fanfare, others with a sense of quiet insistence: I loved this. I don't see it anymore. Can I make it myself? We've always thought we could make it cheaper. We've always thought we could make it ours. And increasingly, brands are beginning to recognize just how powerful that impulse really is. The only thing that's changed is how—and how widely—we share that impulse. That drive to preserve something fleeting sits at the heart of the Unlimited Time Menu, a campaign launched by Knorr earlier this year that paired chef Joshua Weissman with food creator Kevin Noparvar (aka HowKevEats). The goal: to help home cooks recreate fast food's most beloved limited-time offerings year-round with pantry-friendly ingredients. But part of what makes this collaboration stand out is how differently each of them arrived at this moment. Knorr's Unlimited Time Menu is one example of how brands are leaning into the pull of copycat recipes—not as a novelty, but as a reflection of how people want to engage with food right now. By tapping into fast food dupes, the campaign speaks to a deeper cultural desire: the need to feel in control of what we eat and when we eat it. That impulse isn't just about saving money or skipping the drive-thru. It's about reclaiming the experience—bringing joy and creativity into home cooking, and making familiar flavors your own. Campaigns like this reflect something broader: a shift in how we relate to food itself. When people take the time to recreate the meals they crave, it becomes less about convenience and more about connection—whether to a memory, a moment, or a personal sense of care. In that way, copycat recipes don't just preserve a taste. They reshape our relationship to it. Weissman's path is one of early rejection followed by creative return. He went through a brief fast food phase as a kid, but since he cooked at home from an early age, he quickly started wanting to make things that tasted better. By the time he was working in restaurants, he had cut fast food out almost entirely. It wasn't until the now-iconic chicken sandwich sparked his curiosity that he reentered the fold. After reading the buzz, he thought, 'There's no way this is worth it.' But that first bite sparked a lightbulb moment: 'I'm professionally trained. I could make this a million times better at home. But honestly, anybody could.' That frustration—and the curiosity behind it—led to his But Better series, which rebuilds fast food favorites from scratch with bolder flavor and better ingredients. Noparvar, by contrast, never fully left fast food behind—but his relationship with it changed over time. 'When I was a little kid, I ate fast food,' he said, 'but then my mom went on this insane run of only letting me eat her home cooking.' Years later, through creating content on TikTok, he rediscovered it—trying long-forgotten chains and menu items with fresh perspective. That journey back became part of his appeal: What happens when you revisit the foods you once took for granted? 'Some of the most surprising things came from places people didn't expect—like Arby's,' he said. Weissman approaches food like a technician; Noparvar comes to it like a storyteller. One rebuilds flavor from the ground up, the other tracks how it shows up in real life. That shared lens—the desire to understand, recreate, and connect—sits at the heart of what makes copycat recipes matter. While the tools and tutorials for recreating fast food meals stretch far and wide across the internet, Weissman offers something that feels approachable and practical for first-timers: a framework. He explained that most fast food items really come down to two steps. First, figure out what the food item is and identify the components. Then, make those components at home. For him, it's not about memorizing recipes—it's about thinking modularly. 'If you want to make a chicken nugget sandwich,' he said, 'look up a chicken nugget recipe, look up a sandwich recipe, and combine the two.' The goal is to break it down and then build it back up. Noparvar, while not a chef, brings a valuable takeaway from the home cook's point of view. He's spent years eating across the country, building a Rolodex of what great fast food should taste like. Seeing how things were recreated in the kitchen sparked something for him: a reminder that it's not as hard as it looks. 'There are a lot of forums that share what to do, and if you make it, I think people would really be surprised how easy it is to follow,' he said. 'It turns out almost exactly the same.' That kind of accessibility is part of the magic—it's what makes the copycat moment feel less like a gimmick and more like an entry point. But what's happening here goes beyond kitchen tips—it reflects a broader cultural shift in how we interact with food, memory, and scarcity. Fast food has always thrived during moments of economic uncertainty. It's convenient, familiar, indulgent—and consistent. But in 2024 and beyond, it's not just about affordability. It's about how fast food has become part of a much bigger hype cycle—one that mirrors the drop culture we see in fashion, sneakers, and streetwear. Menu items debut like seasonal collections, disappear without warning and generate FOMO-fueled buzz. A new launch might trend for 48 hours and vanish by next week. That kind of scarcity creates urgency—but it also exposes how much of the fast food calendar is driven by financial decisions, not necessarily by consumer need or emotional resonance. That's why copycat recipes hit differently now. They're not just saving you money or offering a workaround. They're a quiet form of rebellion against that limited-time-only logic. They let people savor the food they love without depending on a brand to keep it available. You're no longer at the mercy of a marketing calendar or quarterly rollout—you're recreating the experience on your own time, in your own kitchen. When the item gets pulled, the line's too long, or the budget gets tight, you've still got the recipe—or at least a copycat recipe that hits close enough to satisfy. In a moment where food has become performance, copycat cooking reclaims it as memory, ritual, and choice. We got food at home. And this time, it's on purpose.

Thai mushroom broth
Thai mushroom broth

Telegraph

time01-04-2025

  • Health
  • Telegraph

Thai mushroom broth

I always keep a stash of dried Asian mushrooms – they're perfect for soups and other dishes. I like to use several types of mushroom, including bamboo fungus, which looks like vegetarian tripe when cooked. You only need two for this broth, though – shiitake and black fungus work well. Try mushroom stocks like Star, Kallo or Knorr. Ingredients 60g dried shiitake mushrooms, soaked in 1 litre of cold water until starting to soften, roughly sliced (reserve the water) 2 mushroom (or vegetable) stock cubes dissolved in 1 litre of boiling water 2 fresh lemongrass sticks, tough outer layer removed, trimmed and finely chopped 2 medium chillies, thinly sliced 40g galangal or ginger, scraped and finely grated 100g coconut cream block, broken up 2 spring onions, trimmed and thinly sliced 1 tbsp chopped coriander 40g dried black fungus, soaked in cold water until starting to soften, cut into bite-size pieces 8 lime leaves, dried or fresh

How Ben & Jerry's ice cream exposed the limits of Trump's free speech world
How Ben & Jerry's ice cream exposed the limits of Trump's free speech world

The Independent

time22-03-2025

  • Business
  • The Independent

How Ben & Jerry's ice cream exposed the limits of Trump's free speech world

And now they have cancelled Ben and Jerry. You remember: peace, love and ice cream. Yes, it introduced novel chunks of cookies, chocolate and nuts where previously there had been none. But Ben and Jerry also wanted their ice cream to 'strike the perfect balance of joy and justice'. They would use ice cream to make the world a better place. It's all there on their website. Except that the website is now hosted by Unilever, the gargantuan company which scooped up Ben & Jerry's for $326m in 2000, agreeing to an independent board of directors who would safeguard the company's social mission and brand integrity. Well, that was a very sweet idea, but you will be amazed to hear that, a few weeks into the Trump ascendancy, it has melted like a cheap Cornetto. Earlier this month, the bosses at Unilever – makers of Domestos, Knorr stock cubes and Magnum Classics – fired Ben & Jerry's CEO, Dave Stever, for being too woke. That's not exactly how they put it, of course. But tensions had been bubbling away since November when Ben & Jerry's sued Unilever over what it claims was the parent group's attempt to end its progressive social activism, which has included protesting the war in Gaza, climate change, supporting LGBTQ+ rights … and criticising the incoming president, Donald J Trump. You'd think this wouldn't be a problem since Trump and his little marionette VP, JD Vance, are outspoken champions of free speech and may even have enjoyed the odd tub of Chocolate Fudge Brownie in their time. But Unilever bosses sniffed the changing wind in Washington and decided brand integrity wasn't everything. So now we must ditch Ben & Jerry's for the same reason we can no longer drive a Tesla and may have to consider joining our European friends in boycotting Coca-Cola, Colgate toothpaste and Heinz Tomato Ketchup. Maybe even Magnums. The Ben & Jerry's debacle came the same week America tried to cancel Greenpeace. Did you follow that one? A North Dakota jury found the environmental campaign group liable for defamation, ordering it to pay more than $660m (£507m) in damages to a giant oil company, which is heavily involved in building a lucrative oil pipeline. The environmental group was also accused by the company, Energy Transfer, of trespass, nuisance and civil conspiracy – and of orchestrating criminal behaviour by protesters against the pipeline near the Standing Rock Sioux reservation almost a decade ago. In a statement after the case, Energy Transfer said: 'This win is really for the people of Mandan and throughout North Dakota who had to live through the daily harassment and disruptions caused by the protesters who were funded and trained by Greenpeace.' For its part, Greenpeace has vowed to appeal and has promised it will 'not be silenced'. The staggering fine would likely wipe Greenpeace out in the US, which would be music to the ears of the millionaires and billionaires who want to drill for, and burn, ever more gas and oil. Silencing Greenpeace is, no question, a shrewd business move on their part. Whether it is good for the planet or the cause of free speech is more debatable. Fun fact: Kelcy Warren, the co-founder and board chairman of Energy Transfer, which sued Greenpeace, is an ally and donor to President Trump. But he is litigious and very rich, so I'll just leave that there. It was not the first time Warren's company had gone after Greenpeace over the protests, which ended in 2017. It previously even tried to charge the protest group under the Rico Act, which covers racketeering and corrupt organisations. And if you thought the first amendment counted for something in these Trumpian days, I invite you to pay closer attention. Greenpeace has called the latest lawsuit a Slapp – a strategic lawsuit against public participation, or the deliberate use of horrendously expensive litigation to silence critics. But I think I am still free to say that I find the silencing of speech around matters of social and environmental concern deeply troubling. Not that it appears to trouble the well-funded organisations which proclaim themselves to be the greatest defenders of free speech. Look at the website of [My Lord] Toby Young's Free Speech Union, for instance, and you will find nothing on gagging woke ice cream makers or silencing champions of the environment. But you will find it very exercised about fringe left-wing groups criticising GB News. Myopic, blinkered, obtuse or hypocritical? You decide. Now, here's the thing. The cleverest scientists in the world have told us that we need to cut carbon emissions in half by 2030 to have some chance of staying on the pathway to allow our children and grandchildren to live in a reasonably habitable world. We don't have much time. But how often do you read anything that reminds you of that urgency? Or are you more often assailed by columnists and pundits telling you that net zero is a load of old cobblers and that Ed Miliband is single-handedly destroying a once-great nation? Because I believe in free speech I would not, of course, dream of silencing these aforementioned columnists and pundits. But the editor in me notes that most of them are humanities graduates, not scientists, and I can't help wondering if they have any deep understanding of what they're blah-ing on about. And then I note how rarely any of these sages advance a single idea for averting the environmental catastrophe that – according to the vast majority of people who actually know the science – awaits us. Net zero's a crap idea? Fine. So what's yours? I am, myself, a humanities graduate. But I have listened to enough scientists to believe that we are, as a species, in deep and urgent danger. I believe this to be a fact. I respect facts. I find it odd that some people who like to think of themselves as journalists don't. So I am rather in favour of ice cream makers with a conscience and very much hope they can continue to speak out. I find Greenpeace a rather more reliable guide to reality than numerous celebrated opinion formers who seem unanchored from reality, and bereft of ideas or any sense of urgency. And I increasingly appreciate the actions of climate protestors who keep the issue in the headlines, even if Britain's ever more draconian anti-free speech laws dictate that they may have to spend time in our overcrowded jails. Most of us know that history will prove Donald Trump wholly wrong on climate change. So three cheers to all who resist and no cheers at all to those who collude. 'The economics of this are so powerful that eventually we'll run the world on sun and wind,' said the tireless environmental campaigner and writer Bill McKibben recently. 'But 'eventually' doesn't help much with the climate, not when we're watching the North and the South Poles melt in real time.' Bye, bye then, Ben & Jerry's. Sorry, but the flavour has gone a bit sour.

New Unilever CEO has a chance to revisit mega-M&A
New Unilever CEO has a chance to revisit mega-M&A

Reuters

time27-02-2025

  • Business
  • Reuters

New Unilever CEO has a chance to revisit mega-M&A

LONDON, Feb 25 (Reuters Breakingviews) - Unilever's (ULVR.L), opens new tab new CEO may want to awaken animal spirits at the seller of Dove soap and Axe deodorant. On Tuesday, opens new tab, the $139 billion London-listed group announced that CEO Hein Schumacher is leaving the business after less than two years in charge. His replacement, finance boss Fernando Fernandez, is tasked with revitalising a company with a so-so portfolio of brands. One option may be to revisit a megadeal in the mould of Unilever's attempted Haleon (HLN.L), opens new tab purchase in 2022, opens new tab. Schumacher's departure looks both abrupt and messy. The Dutch executive is the company's third CEO in roughly six years. Unilever has whipsawed between championing environmental, social and governance goals under previous bosses Paul Polman and Alan Jope, to doing the opposite under Schumacher, who said the company should no longer be 'force fitting' purpose on all the group's brands. For now, it looks like Fernandez will carry on with Schumacher's plan to cut costs and focus the company's marketing spend on 30 so-called 'power brands', referring to relatively well-known products like Comfort fabric softener, Hellmann's mayonnaise, and Knorr stock cubes. However, he may need some fresh thinking before long. Unilever is struggling to boost the volume of goods it sells. Schumacher warned earlier this month, opens new tab that there was a slowdown of market growth in 2024 that would continue in the near term. The consumer-goods group's valuation reflects investors' worries. Unilever trades at 17 times forward earnings - a discount to both Danone ( opens new tab and Nestlé (NESN.S), opens new tab, compared with a premium for much of 2024. Closing that gap will mean turbocharging sales and the operating margin. Doing so will be hard with many of the group's staler current brands. Fernandez may therefore need to be bold. He could look at buying a fast-growing, high-margin business like $30 billion Galderma (GALD.S), opens new tab. Another option would be to revisit Advil painkiller-maker Haleon, which Unilever attempted to buy for 50 billion pounds ($63 billion) in 2022. The now-listed business is currently worth 36 billion pounds. Either of these possible deals would help to accelerate Unilever's shift away from lower-valued food and towards the more prized beauty and healthcare businesses. If Fernandez focuses just on the company's existing brands, there is a danger that sales will flounder. Dove, Sunsilk shampoo, Knorr and many others are vulnerable to competition from grocers' cheaper products, making it tough to generate the kind of improvements that investors are seeking. Mega-M&A is always risky, but for Unilever so is doing nothing. Follow @aimeedonnellan, opens new tab on X CONTEXT NEWS Unilever said on February 25 that CEO Hein Schumacher would step down after less than two years in the job. Finance chief Fernando Fernandez will take over on March 1. Unilever, which owns Hellmann's mayonnaise and Dove soap, said there was no change to its 2025 outlook or medium-term forecast and that the board was committed to "further accelerating" Schumacher's growth plan. Shares in Unilever were down 1.9% as of 0958 GMT on February 25. Breakingviews Reuters Breakingviews is the world's leading source of agenda-setting financial insight. As the Reuters brand for financial commentary, we dissect the big business and economic stories as they break around the world every day. A global team of about 30 correspondents in New York, London, Hong Kong and other major cities provides expert analysis in real time. Sign up for a free trial of our full service at and follow us on Twitter @Breakingviews and at All opinions expressed are those of the authors.

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