Bovril must have been a hard sell.  If I had been in the meeting when it was suggested, I don’t think it would have won my vote.  I imagine the conversation would have gone a little like this...

“Okay, so how about we create a beef spread?”

“Well, is there a demand for beef spread?  Does research prove people are liquidising their steaks and buttering their bread with the paste?”

“Um, no, but if we invent it, we can create a demand.”

“I guess.  We’ll just have to ensure it’s a good colour and texture...”

“Actually, I was thinking it should be blackish – basically the same colour of bile.  It should feel like you’re putting a very soft tar onto your bread.”

“Once again, I’m not too sure if that’s going to sell.”

“Are you forgetting Sandwich Spread?”

“Good point.  That looked like what you would get if a bottle of mayonnaise ate something bad and they bottled the vomit.”

“Exactly.  Now... I was thinking that we should call it Bovril!”

“Why Bovril?”

“Because it’s better than what I was previously calling it.  Johnston's Fluid Beef just wasn’t catching on.”

Bovril really doesn’t have much going for it.  Despite not tasting much like beef, one would think that the popular belief that Bovril actually contains blood would steer people away.  Fortunately for Bovril makers around the world, people are far more prone to vampirism than one might expect.

The first company to bring Bovril to the general public must have had other really bad spread suggestions in order for them to give Bovril the go ahead.  The previous conversation must have taken place after a long day where the major contender was a spread made entirely out of car crash shrapnel and dead otters.

The thing that really gets me about Bovril though, is what is written on the lid.  After the name, the nutritional information and directions on how to put it on your sandwich or stew, it suggests the unthinkable...

 ‘Add 5ml (one teaspoon) to hot water to make a beefy drink.’

It’s written in such a nonchalant way – as if everyone does and always will enjoy a good ‘ol fashioned beefy drink from time to time.  When has this ever been the case?  I’m willing to believe that some people love the concept of a beefy drink, but they must be the exception and this is hardly the great selling point the Bovril company believe it to be.  It’s not as if the 2 in 1 combo of sandwich spread AND beefy drink sweetens the deal or anything.

If Bovril insists on keeping the one line recipe for their beefy drink on the lid, then I think other spreads should step up their game and also include their other uses on the jar.  The next time I pick up a jar of peanut butter, I’d like it to read... “Can be fed to dogs to make them look like they’re talking in movies.”