China's love of pork is not to America's taste Capitol Hill has stopped short of calling for this deal to be blocked, but is worrying that old sore - security - to ensure it does not steam right through either. Senators have suggested that Shaunghui will steal American intellectual property, never mind that pork farming techniques are already pretty standardised the world over. They also questioned the implications the deal might have for the safety of food in America's supply chain, one which they hailed as "the safest, most efficient and reliable" in the world. America's anxiety is not entirely misplaced. Earlier this year, China's water supply was contaminated after 16,000 diseased pig carcasses were slung into a river outside Shanghai. The incident has no known connection to Shaunghai, but it exposed weaknesses in China's farming regulations and raised fears that other diseased carcasses may have made it on to the country's dining tables. But the US Senate agriculture committee's line of questioning shone a light on the main reason for their concern. "Smithfield might be the first acquisition of a major food and agricultural company, but I doubt it will be the last," said Debbie Stabenow, the committee's chairman. Could this sale happen if it was the other way around? Based on what we've heard, it sounds like the answer is 'no."" In other words, we don't want this deal unless you reciprocate, China. We want you to let us eat up Chinese companies in the same way as you do ours; to feed off Chinese demand as easily as our own. But while America and China are open about their mutual distrust, it is not the only important relationship between two trading blocs that is coloured by suspicion. This week, as bureaucrats from the European Union and the US gathered for the first round of the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership negotiations in Washington, the talk was upbeat. Both sides discussed the importance of collaborating, and sweeping away red tape and import duties to allow free access to each other's markets. They spoke enthusiastically of the £265bn of extra value a successful agreement could represent to the global economy each year. But despite all the glad-handing and back-slapping, many of those present were still looking at each other askance. The surveillance row, in which the UK was accused of spying on its G20 allies and America was accused of spying on pretty much everyone, is painfully fresh in people's minds. It has frayed trust between both the EU and America, and between EU nations, at a critical juncture for the talks. France has been the most vocal about the issue. With stereotypical Gallic gusto, President Hollande attempted to delay the talks until he got some answers about exactly what had gone on. He was talked back into the fold, but France and every other nation at the negotiating table will still be feeling uneasy about how much of their negotiations will remain private, and whether they stand to be short-changed. The timing is unhelpful. As most of Europe faces another year of stagnation and America's recovery is still fragile, economic nationalism is in danger of becoming a knee-jerk reaction. Cocoons of protectionist red tape are short-sighted, but they are also reassuring to worried voters. The G20, the G8 and the EU have already tried to tackle the world's economic problems together. It has not gone according to plan, leaving the leaders of each country which signed up to it to cast around for national solutions instead. We are a long way off the stage where senators are blocking British investments in America on the grounds that they may be used for spying or other nefarious purposes. But it will be little surprise if the same protectionist issues that make the US so openly wary of China make talks testing with its European "allies" as well. Working (out) the room I have long had a bad habit of making multiple arrangements for an evening, then dashing about regretting that I had tried to pack so much in. But what felt stressful and occasionally rude in London, is par for the course in New York. This is a city that invented the double lunch, after all. Busy executives, eager to cram as much networking as they could into a day, would deliberately double-book themselves and eat two separate lunches, with separate guests, back to back. I hope I never go to such lengths, but I like the fact that my over-ambitious diary-keeping is nothing compared with New Yorkers. Here in Manhattan, nearly everyone is the three-times-a-night sort. Every evening offers the opportunity for pre-dinner drinks, dinner and nightcaps - at least. There is also a clear hierarchy attached. A 6pm cocktail is the short straw, for contacts you want to meet but for whom you are not quite prepared to give up an evening. Dinner is for those you want to spend proper time with. And after-dinner drinks are the winner. But if all that sounds a bit stressful and unhealthy, Wall Street types have found a solution. The latest trend is to eschew the early evening drinking session and bond with colleagues by heading for a competitive exercise class instead. Traders sweat it out in spin classes and analysts do crunches en masse, in the hope that they can get closer to their cohorts at the same time as working on their abs. This addition to the schedule might be healthy but the mere thought of teamy, forced exercise with your "co-workers" feels more revolting to me than the double lunch. It's like PE lessons all over again, with the added pressure of having to appear capable: two of my enduring nightmares at once. I'll stick to over-committed venue-hopping to burn those calories instead.