Time to YUM clean

YUM exposed for what it really is: daylight robbery that makes your wallet bulimic.


Once again, the dreaded exam season is upon us. Many of us have been living in the nightmarish environment of the Bill Bryson Library, the air rich with the stench of fear and desperation.

Along with the inevitable fatigue and stress, this means the onset of constant hunger pangs and an unquenchable desire for the sweet nectar of insomnia – caffeine.  And so, we find ourselves at the mercy of the University’s answer to all our catering needs, YUM.

YUM’s rainbow logo portrays a sort of “look how non-corporate and organic and lovely we are” image and their website proclaims that their ethos is to ‘exceed the needs of our customers’.

There is a BIG pot of gold at the end of this rainbow. Not for you though. Not even for the leprechauns. Just for the shareholders.

All in all then, YUM casts itself in a rather angelic aura. But do they deserve their self-awarded halo? I thought I’d do some (ahem) “investigating”, and compare YUM to its industry rivals, to find out.

Where better to start than prices. In 2012, comparing YUM to its rivals would have required almost no effort at all.

During the exam period YUM took the questionable business decision of demonstrating to their customers just how extortionate their prices are, by compiling a list comparing their prices to those for the price of the same item in high street chains, which they then plastered all over their shop.

Presumably having realised that all that this advertised to their customers the fact they were ripping them off, they took it down and probably fired the imbecile that came up with the idea.

Nevertheless, in the interests of fairness, I’ve done some reconnaissance at Greggs and YUM, and I’ll give you a couple of comparative examples of pricing.

Shall we start with lunch? A ‘Ham and Cheese’ baguette in Greggs is £1.35 whilst in YUM plain ‘Cheese’ costs £1.85/£2.25 depending on whether you want to eat in or out. So, having lost the right to eat meat you pay 50p extra and if you want a chair (which Greggs gives you for free) you pay almost £1 more!

Thirsty? A regular cup of tea in Greggs will set you back an affordable 99p, whilst a regular cup of tea in YUM costs £1.70.

YUM’s defence for this absurd premium sits proudly on its website. First, that they are giving us the opportunity to ‘eat local products’. Great. Because I don’t feel I’ve contributed enough to the economy of the north east by pumping in 27 grand over our three years at Uni, not to mention my annual quaddie spend.

 

Amount of coffee produced in the North East of England.

Otherwise, I’m not sure what us students gain from the privilege of being able to eat a local brownie. Either way, their argument fails to explain why a regular Mocha, which I’d be willing to bet came from somewhere a lot more African than Tyne and Wear, costs 90% more in YUM than it does in Greggs.

This is especially confusing when one finds out that, like YUM’s, Gregg’s tea, coffee and hot chocolate are all fair-trade.

There is some reprieve from the silliness. ‘Healthy’ ingredients. YUM has the edge on Greggs here. For a start, there aren’t any sausage rolls in sight. So if you’re looking to maintain a healthy weight, visit YUM not Greggs.

Greggs will probably almost definitely make you fat

 

But be aware that though you might be healthier, with the rate at which the money disappears from your pocket, you may start to think your wallet is bulimic.

So aside from the admittedly brilliant news that “The cardboard on our new packaged sandwiches is 35% lighter than previously used” there seems little to justify the premium YUM charges.

And, happy though I am that my arm will now be 35% less strained as I pick up the latest ‘fantastic’ offering in the sandwich department, I’m not sure what this achieves.

Perhaps YUM means to say that it now uses 35% less of the tree that nobly sacrifices itself to support the University’s monopoly, which would be great, though given YUM’s moral unscrupulousness I’m not sure I’d want to bet on that.

Regardless, their superficial commitment to environmentalism is exposed by asking YUM for a cup of water, which I did, pretending to have forgotten my water bottle. This turned out to be more complicated than expected.

Not so YUM water – “undrinkable”

Looking uneasy and with the air of a man apologising for a particularly loud bout of flatulence, the attendant told me that ‘the tap we have is not really drinkable’.

Now, unless YUM are actually poisoning their own water, it seems unlikely that the water supplier has decided to single them out from the rest of the network by giving them non-drinkable water.

But, turn around in the café and YUM’s reasoning becomes clear: there’s the vending machine in the corner. Having left the bottle at home then, you’re left with two choices. You can commit the environmental cardinal sin of buying bottled water – for £1 or more – and so create unnecessary plastic waste, or you can slurp, dog-like, from the library water fountain.

Though it’s an option, you might draw some strange looks from your fellow Library-goers as you return to your seat looking like you’ve been through a car wash. £1 bottle it is then.Unfortunately you’re helpless. Though, as a student at our venerable institution, you’re probably used to that by now. It’s a monopoly.

YUM are perfectly entitled to charge whatever they want for their delightful sandwiches and beverages. They aren’t going to stop behaving like C. Montgomery Burns any time soon, unless someone competes with them.

The man behind YUM (sic)

And so I implore Mr Greggs, if he really exists, to come and open up a franchise next to the Science Site. Bring the delightful products of your bakery just a mile up river, to the 14000 or so students regularly heading to the library or their science lectures. Satisfy our stomachs, cure our wallets and fill your pockets!

And if Greggs aren’t keen: someone must be willing to do it. Even if you sell slightly fewer ‘cheesy chips and gravies’ than you would to the punters coming out of Klute on a Friday night, chances are you’ll have considerably less ketchup, vodka and regurgitated potato to clean up the next morning.