Australia celebrates end to ‘Vegemite-gate’ after product back on shelves in Toronto

[JohnS]

I'd like to acknowledge and thank @targa88 for this article. If you aren't aware, vegemite is an Australian condiment made from yeast extract. It has a strong, savoury flavour and is therefore high in sodium (and vitamin B). It was invented in Australia in the 1920s after there was a shortage of British-made marmite after World War I.

It took 10 years for the product to catch on in Australia after Kraft initiated a giveaway (of vegemite) with every purchase of its popular single-slice cheese product (at the time). The inclusion of vegemite with the rations of soldiers in World War II ensured the enduring popularity of vegemite in Australia ever since. Elsewhere? Well...not so much. Vegemite was manufactured in New Zealand for 50 years but production stopped years ago as New Zealand has a marmite product of their own which is popular in their country.

For further information, check out @Chas.Alpha's fun-filled vegemite threads below....

Australia celebrates end to ‘Vegemite-gate’ after product back on shelves in Toronto

By The Canadian Press - Published: April 19, 2025

Vegemite jars are sold at a supermarket in Canberra, Australia, Thursday, Jan. 19, 2017. THE CANADIAN PRESS/AP-Rod McGuirk

Canada and Australia have shaken hands to end a potential diplomatic dust-up over a yeast-based spread that many Aussies like on toast and crackers.

Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese thanked Prime Minister Mark Carney and his team on Saturday for helping end “Vegemite-gate” and ensuring a Toronto cafe can once again have jars of the product back on its shelves.

“This is a win for Australian industry, but it’s also a win for those people in Canada who get to enjoy this wonderful product that is so much a part of Australian culture and, indeed, Australian pride as well,” Albanese said while speaking at an Easter event in Sydney. “So I think that is a fantastic outcome.”

Carney reposted Albanese on the social media platform X, saying he’s looking forward to doing more to bring Canada and Australia even closer.

“This is the value of strong free trade with reliable partners like Australia -- and mutual respect for our cultural treasures,” he said.

Carney’s office noted the Canadian Food Inspection Agency, which earlier asked the Found Coffee cafe to pull its Vegemite, and the Prime Minister’s Office are separate agencies. But a spokesman for Foreign Affairs Minister Melanie Joly said the Prime Minister’s Office did help expedite the process that led to Vegemite’s status in Canada being restored.

A news release from the CFIA on Friday said an inspection of the cafe showed Vegemite being sold did not meet regulations around vitamin fortification, adding the food label also wasn’t in both French and English.

But the agency’s release said a science-based assessment determined the added vitamins pose a low risk to people if the spread is eaten within suggested serving sizes, and the agency will work with Health Canada, the manufacturer and the importer to find a longer-term plan for Vegemite sales.

On April 10, Found Coffee owner Leighton Walters posted a video on his social media accounts, saying he was “torn and shocked” after having woken up from a surgery to a letter from the CFIA asking the cafe to get rid of its Vegemite stock for non-compliance.

“What I was concerned about was that in the midst of a trade war with America, the last thing you want is starting to create any sort of tension or especially with the most, most iconic Australian brand, that’s part of the fabric of our country,” Walters said in an interview Saturday.

About a week after word about the spread got around in Australia, Walters said he was humbled and grateful Albanese took up his cause and Carney responded.

“Overall, this is a win for small business,” he said. “But in my view, if you want to be the prime minister of Australia, you got to be a Vegemite kid. You know what I mean?”

The Australian High Commission celebrated the news by posting a picture of the yellow-and-brown jar, saying “Vegemite. Back on sale in Canada.”

While Walters is happy Vegemite is back on his store shelves, he said he would not call it “Vegemite-gate.”

“It’s not so much a political thing,” he said. “It’s more of me just defending my small business and wanting to do what I believe is right.”

Walters said he was born with spina bifida -- a birth defect where there’s a gap in the spine -- and one of the causes for it is getting too little folate or vitamin B-9.

“Vegemite helps minimize (the likelihood of the condition) in kids at birth,” he said. “To me, this was a very personal fight.”

Vegemite is one of those things that is worth fighting for and part of Australian culture and fabric, Walters said.

“Who would have thought that of all things, of all products, that Vegemite was the one thing that brought Australia and Canada together in politics?” he said, adding he hopes it becomes the conduit for more conversation, understanding and trade.

“Because from my view Vegemite is to an Australian, what maple syrup is to a Canadian.”

This report by The Canadian Press was first published April 19, 2025.

Source: https://www.ctvnews.ca/canada/article/australia-celebrates-end-to-vegemite-gate-after-product-back-on-shelves-in-toronto/

[Ken Gargett]

it is vile toxic sludge. 

i suspect i have posted this before but it was a piece i did quite a few years ago, travelling with an old mate of mine. it is not all about vegemite but it is relevant. 

 

Travels with Colin –

Your nod to Egon Muller in the previous issue of Noble Rot brought back some mixed memories for me. Over the years, I have that the privilege (penance?) of travelling various wine regions of Europe with a good friend of mine – we’ll call him Colin as there is no need to protect the guilty. We both work in various aspects of the wine industry and enjoy getting away to visit top wineries, restaurants and so forth. If you love your work…

Colin was once asked why we travel together. His response? “My wife doesn’t like travelling and he is usually punctual”, pointing at me. So, not the fact that we’ve been close mates for thirty years, then? No matter.

It is, however, never dull. Colin has been very successful in his various businesses and, like many who run their own company, is not really attuned to the subtleties of dealing with others, being under the impression that his every pronouncement will be met with cap-tipping and three bags full, sir. Hence his nickname, ‘The Colonel’.

Examples? On one occasion in Alsace, we parked (Colin always drives – I think it makes him feel in control, but it means I can sleep, chat, watch the countryside, whatever, so I am fine with it) and as we got out of the vehicle, Colin flicked a coin across to me and told me to put it in the meter.

“You mean the meter you are standing next to?”

“Yes”, says Colin, blithely unaware that there is an issue of any kind.

“So you want me to walk around the car and put this in the meter that is one foot from you?” (I flicked it back and told him to do it - it was only much later I told him that the parking fee did not apply on the weekend). 

Colin just wanders off, shaking his head in wonderment as to why that would be hard to understand.

But the Colonel usually travels with a suitcase of Grand Cru Burgundy, so I do put up with a bit of crap. And the man is nothing if not consistent. Bureaucrats and public servants are particularly favoured when Colin is keen to dish out some unrequited and unrequested advice on life skills.

Most infamous is perhaps the ‘Madrid Incident’. Our hero gets extremely grumpy if he is denied his daily dose of Vegemite (I assure you that not all Australians are enamoured of that inedible axle grease, as is sometimes suggested). But the Colonel and his black slime are not easily parted.

We were travelling from Madrid to Oporto for a few days to taste some ports and arrived at the airport with plenty of time to spare. Turns out, we needed it. Colin was dressed in his prized blue pork pie hat (who travels with a different hat for each day of the week?). In his hand luggage was a tube of the dreaded Vegemite. The unsuspecting woman at Spanish Customs advised him that she was confiscating it, under the 'no paste' rule – or possibly the 'good taste' rule. She was advised, in return, that she was not. Chaos followed and within minutes, a crowd of, without exaggeration, 400 bemused onlookers had gathered to witness the battle. Colin is still old-fashioned enough to believe that he can win such a conflict.

Our protagonist first regaled the poor woman with tales of the glories of the slime and hence why he should be allowed to take it with him – she had absolutely no idea what it was or what it could be used for, but she was not buying this myth that anyone would be so insane as to actually try eating it.

When that didn't work, Colin moved on to plan B, identifying the shortcomings of Spanish Customs. That worked about as well as you'd expect. It got worse. He then turned to his personal thoughts on Spain itself. As far as I could work out, Spain's greatest crime was... not being France.

By now, the crowd was getting restless and offering opinions – I have no idea if they were for or against our intrepid hero, but it was not hard to take a wild guess. I was calling for a public strip search but no one was listening to me.

Eventually, telling them that this wasn't over, Colin abandoned his slime (to be honest, it pretty much was all over by then). For the next hour in the airport, I watched little children duck behind the legs of adults to hide when they saw him coming and I am convinced that Spanish parents now put the fear of God into their kids by telling them tales of how the black slime man in the weird hat will come for them in the night if they don't behave.

But I digress.

This particular trip, we were meeting up on the outskirts of Paris and driving across to the Mosel and beyond – our appointments JJ Prum, Heymann-Lowenstein, Donnhoff. Our first appointment however, later that day, was with Egon Muller. Colin had just arrived from Australia but, naturally, insisted that he would be doing the driving and navigating. It was not his finest performance.

I swear we wandered onto the wrong side of the road at least 18 times, and over-corrected the corresponding 18 times – fortunately, by this stage we were so badly lost that most of this was on deserted backroads. Colin, of course, insisted that we were most certainly not lost and to prove his point, when we finally came to a large flowing body of water, announced proudly, “That would be the River Something”. Marco Polo couldn't have put it better.

We finally reached the winery of Egon Muller at the appointed time (or thereabouts). Egon had a group of 20-something somms from all over Europe with him and they were about to climb one of the world's steepest vineyards, Wiltinger. The reward, at the summit, was several ice-buckets of chilled 20-year-old Auslese. Would we be interested?

“Absolutely”, declared Colin, adding that he'd show these young whippersnappers a thing or two (yes, he does talk like that). Off we set. What seemed a very long time later, we emerged from the neat rows of vines upon a ledge running along the top – so we thought. Sadly, this ledge was only about a ¼ of the way up. Sir Colin Hillary threw in the towel. All too much. 'Don't have anything to prove to these young whippersnappers', most of whom were now little more than dots on far distant slopes.

I told him I'd see him later and set off again. No, he demanded, ‘you have to help me down’. Some days just keep giving.

In his defence, it was extremely steep and he is old, fat and unfit.

So I gave up the thought of chilled glorious Riesling and headed down.

“Not here”, insisted Colin. “Too steep.”

“Where isn’t?”

“We'll find somewhere.”

We didn't.

Eventually, we edged down a slope that would’ve embarrassed a mountain goat. I kept foreseeing newspaper reports declaring that ‘one of Germany's prized vineyards was today destroyed by two fat Aussies avalanching down it’. Meanwhile, Egon had skipped back down the slopes to assist (yes, embarrassingly, he’d already made it all the way up). We finally got back to earth and the winery surrounds. Egon suggested that perhaps we'd like to drive up (seriously? We could have done that in the first place?). So we hopped in the car, with Colin declaring he had recovered enough to take the wheel, and headed around and up the backroads to the summit (and chilled Riesling).

By the time we got there, the somms were all guzzling Auslese. Inevitably, we copped merry hell from them (deservedly so). Australia's good name took a fearful beating that afternoon. While I was running around trying to convince them all that Colin was actually a Kiwi and nothing to do with us, he took a turn for the worse. Slumped against a vineyard wall. Everyone rushed over to assist (some people will do anything to be the centre of attention). He had, in truth, gone whiter than a KKK AGM and really did not look good. He couldn't speak (silver lining?). We carried him across to the car and laid him down. Everyone was trying to work out if we could get an ambulance up to the summit or where the nearest hospital was (well, perhaps not everyone. I was wondering if his wife knew he’d brought a suitcase of '99 Burgundies with him and if she'd notice if they went missing).

We managed to drive him back down, along the narrowest sliver of dirt-track you have ever seen, and via a traffic pile-up, as the road back to the winery is one lane and apparently some Germans had not been told how important Colin was and that therefore we had automatic right of way.

We got him back to the winery, supplied him with a reviving drink and within minutes he was arguing, complaining, directing everyone around, abusing the GPS machine because places were not where he believed they should be and generally giving a critique of the shortcomings of everyone else on the road – in other words, back to his old self.

Never dull.

KBG