Clover is churned with love, we’re told, not sloshed around by whopping industrial blades on some sterile production line then? It’s capable of bringing a tear to the eyes of a Billy-No-Mates Mummy’s boy with his baked potato, a soppy Wendy Craig lookalike who seemingly shares a hairdresser with Martina Navratilova, and a lachrymose corn-on-the cob loving family man, who really will have a cob on when he finds out that, if pack statistics are to be believed, Clover may be up to three times as high in saturates and twice as calorific as some cholesterol reducing spreads out there.
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