The politically incorrect name summed up the produce which came from all over the British Empire and Colonies.
I remember in the days of rationing queuing around the block, utterly miserable, for quarter of an hour or so, to even get in. That's how busy they were. However, as a kid i remember being fascinated by the aroma of the sawdust on the wooden floor, the open sacks of flour and grains,the man with a thin wire on a peg who sliced through a huge block of cheese on the counter and the mechanical slicing machine which sliced sides of bacon and ham into thin slivers with a magical silky, hissing noise as the handle was turned and the slicing machine whizzed back and fore. This chain of shops made its founder a millionaire who built Castle Drago in Devon.
I don't think they survived later than the fifties and the gradual loss of the pink bits on the map.


