Perhaps George Osborne regularly serves meatloaf at the powerbroking soirées he hosts at his west London house. But when this detail about the food served at his lunch with David Cameron and Kenneth Clarke was briefed to the press it did seem a bit odd. Perhaps the shadow chancellor suspected Kenneth Clarke would want something more substantial than guinea fowl and polenta. Perhaps Mr Osborne and his fellow strategists were keenly aware that this meal would inevitably take its place in Tory history: the moment when the two young modernisers sealed the deal with the old bruiser. The choice of meatloaf was apparently meant to send out an unambiguous message — that the prodigal Ken had returned, and that beef was back on the Tory front bench.
While Mr Clarke inevitably hogged all the attention, there was much more to this reshuffle. It revealed a lot about Mr Cameron’s sensitivities and priorities — as well as the direction he will take between now and the general election. He has assembled a team chosen primarily to woo wavering voters, not to transform Britain. He is also realising the futility of planning too far in advance, as it is impossible to gauge how much damage will be inflicted by what is now universally believed to be the most savage recession in Europe.
What has most discomfited Mr Cameron in recent weeks is the fear of the Tories being seen as the ‘Dave and George show’ (a phrase used not only by his enemies, but some shadow cabinet members). This is why, last week, he publicly reappointed William Hague as his ‘deputy in all but name’. I gather Mr Hague has refused to take the formal title — perhaps because, as everyone in Westminster knows, he is only Mr Cameron’s parliamentary deputy. Operationally, Mr Osborne is the one serving up the meatloaf.

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