"Did you say Lidl -I wouldn’t be seen dead in the place!" I've found that's a typical reaction whenever the "L" word is mentioned in the company of the non-cognoscenti. I counter that this Company (and a couple of their Continent inspired cousins) is a retail phenomena that even the most cynical can't afford to ignore for much longer. Then I go on some. To confess, I'm an "outed" Lidl fanatic!

We're talking shopping here. Basic shopping. That's something that The Bride, in her wisdom, entrusts to me, her retired and consequently humbled servant. By basic, read washing powder, bleach, bin-liners, toilet rolls, tomato soup, saucepans, mineral water, UHT milk… Still with me? Yes, call me sad if you must and I know it's hardly the stuff of dreams but, given that all of us use this life-supporting trivia, by the shedfull, I do wonder why most folk persist with, glammed-up but often inferior products at twice the price?

Here in Wales I'm a regular at my local Lidl. Whilst never one to follow the herd, the clincher for me was peeking through the bread racks one day and spying a chortling gaggle of local old-money Tafia quietly stashing away vast quantities of smoked salmon, 12 year old single malt and dishwasher tablets by the armful.

Lidl is "shopping on the seriously cheap". Not a few coppers here and there -we're talking about, gop-smacking, drop-dead bargains in foodstuffs, clothing, tools and household items, every day and every time. That's what you can expect once one makes the crossover from the old ways of razzmatazz, image -and yes, downright snobbery! Just don't forget, this is real-time, "no-frills" retailing with the knobs taken off so the least that's expected is that you pay for your carrier bags.

To the sceptics who prattle about "product quality", I ask anyone, to tell me where else can I buy a washing-up liquid, that costs 59p per half-litre, three drops of which will lather the pants of a two-second squirt of the best that the brand-doctors offer in grander stores? Also, I remind them, that whilst I'm hardly a foodie-sophisticate, The Bride does know a good bratwurst when she gets her hands on one.

Critics will muse that this is the store where the staff have crafted indifference to customers to a fine art. Indeed, the novice Lidl shopper might be forgiven for thinking that having a charisma by-pass operation is a prerequisite to getting a job there. But make no mistake, the handful of staff employed in each store are at the cutting edge of New-Retail. A quick take inside any Lidl will tell you that the Company doesn't carry passengers. After the same couple of guys have stacked shelves, parked trolleys and worked the checkout -all within half an hour, I can allow that their attentiveness to the needs of oiks like me might wane a little. It's only when you emerge from the experience with two burgeoning trolleys, and still change out of 40 quid, that you fully appreciate the advantages of a lean & mean management attitude.

Despite the fact that we have a nearly-new and adorable grandson I hold the view that children have no place whatsoever in shops. In this regard Lidl reigns unchallenged. It is, without doubt, the store that any child would least like to be seen in. School bunkers and mall maidens are readily charmed by almost anywhere other location and, with little to appeal to the more junior set, our shopping at Lidl is usually free of the tantrums and sticky fingermarks of those better catered for in emporia with loftier pretensions.

That said, in Lidl you do find well-researched items that grown-ups deem suitable for children -a weekly changing compendium of sensible products usually surrounded by clusters of utility-minded grandparents with an eye for presents to be set aside for birthdays yet to come.
But, lets be honest, what is there about a jar of Latvian pumpernickel or a 110 piece drill-bit set for less than a fiver that will ever enthuse 4-16 year-olds?

We've made mistakes. Last month we bought, for a few pence, a sack of potatoes, of a size that held promise to feed our village for a year only to find that half way through, the contents failed to live up to their use-by date. And once The Bride returned a food basin because the dog couldn't live with the colour.

We often travel through Spain, a country that's long been part of Greater Lidl-land. There, we have found that, in the finest tradition of one-size-fits-all Europeanism, Lidl stores are fully compliant. An identical ethos with similar stock lines to home and -most helpful- same store layout; except that (as we found out to our cost and the detriment of a cucumber sticking out of a trolley pushed by an Teutonic lady of tender sensibilities) unlike in UK, after passing the fruit & veg counter, you're supposed to proceed anti-clockwise.

Once, on a very hot day at the start of a holiday, we called at the Lidl near Fuengirola to stock-up the casita for the week. On entry, we encountered a familiar profusion of the usual bargains –plus a few local specialities. Our purchased comestibles included a couple of tins of, what The Bride assured me was an Andalucian casserole. Sadly, a linguistically superior neighbour (who we were trying to impress with a good dinner at the time) pronounced, after reading the label, it to be, sustenance for premium-grade dogs.

By now, those still with me may have concluded that I am easily pleased. We have had the odd cause for complaint but these have always been resolved to our satisfaction. Be the item faulty, wrong-sized, taste-challenged or simply rejected as a result of what The Bride insists is "downright, whinging cussedness" on my part. Whenever we've returned a product, Lidl's have proved as good as their word. No questions asked, just sign a slip at the till and the cash is immediately refunded.

Here, I have to confess TB, once bought a jar of instant coffee, so insipid that she insisted we keep it for when our Spanish neighbour calls again.

So what's the trade-off? By the standards of Tesco, Sainsbury -or even the downtrodden, but chirpy, rump-smacking masses at ASDA, the Lidl Experience might well be from another planet. Don’t expect to be greeted by an over-jolly, beaming flunky as you enter or dollybirds to ambush you with free samples at every aisle-end. In vain will you seek out customer toilets or mother & baby cubicles and your credit cards will be given a definite thumbs- down. And don’t hold your breath as you wait at the checkout.

You might just have to content yourself that the last time you stood in-line so patiently was when Freddy Laker flew the two of you to the States for less than 100 quid.

But boy do we enjoy our newfound, "alternative" shopping! Let aside utility consumables, our food shelves groan with the most delicious pre-packed charcuterie, superb pasties and prawns, fabulous cheeses, vast tubs of yoghurt bursting with honest flavour and olive oil, so good, that to append it simply as, "extra-virgin" does the folk who made it a grave injustice; all quaffed down with splendid wines from countries that I used to think existed only to sponsor flags of convenience.

But I hear there's a new, "Aldi" store opening near us soon. I wonder…?

Copyright Reserved John Butler 2004