Do you remember when British food was a bit of a laughing stock? Back in my Naked Chef days, I constantly found myself sticking up for our cuisine and defending the honour of our Great British chefs, farmers and producers. But then something wonderful happened. In the mid-1990s, we welcomed the era of Cool Britannia. The energy of Britpop exploded and suddenly our culture — and our culinary confidence — were something to shout about. Our neighbourhood restaurants became the envy of the world.
And we’ve kept that flame alive ever since. Globally, the United Kingdom is a top-10 destination. We welcome a massive 40 million visitors every year. They’re not just coming for the royal family, for our history and heritage. Just like us, visitors want to enjoy the perfect pint in a proper cosy pub, they want to feel the energy and buzz of our farmers’ markets and experience the genius of a young chef pushing culinary boundaries in a basement kitchen. Our food scene is eclectic and exciting and it gives Britain its soul.
That’s why it breaks my heart that we’re now in real danger of losing it all. Our culinary creativity is being slowly extinguished and the Government isn’t just letting it happen — they’re the ones stubbing it out.
This isn’t about a lack of effort or talent. Our British hospitality sector is packed with some of the most industrious, creative, talented and hardworking people you’ll ever meet. And I can promise you one thing; there’s no such thing as an easy pound in this business. It requires relentless and persistent enthusiasm and being constantly pushed to your limits.
As the son of a publican I’m glad our pubs are getting a small gesture of relief, but I don’t understand why that doesn’t extend to our restaurants. The sector is being crushed by a combination of astronomical business rates, a rigid VAT system and a mountain of bureaucracy that leaves no room for exactly what makes these businesses great: creativity.
An industry suffocated
To run a successful restaurant, you need oxygen. You need the financial space to take a risk on a new idea or a new supplier, or to hire and train up a young apprentice. When the Government chips away at margins until there’s nothing left but a smouldering wick, confidence and creativity die. We are in the throes of a culinary brain drain. Seasoned operators are leaving the industry, family businesses are folding and the next generation of talent is looking at the financial hurdles and deciding it simply isn’t worth the fight.
Our British hospitality sector is packed with some of the most industrious, creative, talented and hardworking people you’ll ever meet
If the Government doesn’t act now, we risk a total exodus. Our talent — young and old — will simply take their genius elsewhere. One of the benefits of working in hospitality is you can travel the world; there will always be a town or city that actually values your contribution to the beautifully complex cultural fabric of hospitality.
We aren’t just losing businesses; we’re losing the very character of our streets. If the Government continues to ignore the plight of the independent entrepreneur — the person working 90 hours a week to keep their dream alive — we know exactly what happens next.
The void left by our cherished neighbourhood spots won’t stay empty for long. It will be filled by the only entities that can survive this suffocating climate: huge, soulless global chains and the clinical rise of “dark kitchens”.
Slash VAT and red tape
I beg Rachel Reeves to take a moment to review the data. To compare the dream with reality. It’s OK to admit that things aren’t working, to pivot and adjust the strategy. She needs to ask herself: is this the Britain we want? A country where every high street is identical, dominated by corporate logos and delivery-only warehouses?
The UK applies a whopping 20 per cent VAT to hospitality, one of the highest rates in Europe, while Ireland, from July, will operate at nine per cent for food-led hospitality — a cut from the current rate of 13.5 per cent. That gap alone shows how much harder it is for UK restaurants to invest, grow and create jobs. My plea is simple: give the industry room to breathe. The London Standard is right to demand urgent VAT reform to bring us in line with our European neighbours; a business rates overhaul that values physical community spaces and a bonfire of red tape so small businesses can actually flourish.
I beg Rachel Reeves to take a moment to review the data. To compare the dream with reality. It’s OK to admit that things aren’t working
These aren’t just tax breaks, they’re the fuel we need to keep our high streets alive. When you strike at a local restaurant, you also hit the farmer who grows the carrots, the producer making the cheese and the teenager getting their first break as an apprentice. You hit the entire ecosystem of British excellence. And you remove the joy for the public. Food brings people together, it’s at the heart of communities and it’s something to be proud of. We have the talent, we have the drive and we have a public hungry for what we do.
Let us be entrepreneurs again. Stop burying us in forms and strangling us with rates. Give us the reform we need and we’ll give you a country that’s the culinary envy of the world. But do it quickly. Once that spark is gone, you can’t just wish it back.
Jamie Oliver is a restaurant owner, chef and bestselling author
