After years of court action and complaints, trademark office in Spain rules name is counter to ‘public order and morality’

A Spanish restaurant chain called The Mafia Sits at the Table may soon have to change its name after the country’s patent and trademark office heeded objections from the Italian government and ruled that the brand’s nomenclature ran counter to “both public order and morality”.

Italy has pursued its claim against the chain – known in Spanish as La Mafia se sienta a la mesa – through various courts and official bodies over the past few years, alleging that the name trivialises both organised crime and efforts to fight it .

After years of court action and complaints, trademark office in Spain rules name is counter to ‘public order and morality’

A Spanish restaurant chain called The Mafia Sits at the Table may soon have to change its name after the country’s patent and trademark office heeded objections from the Italian government and ruled that the brand’s nomenclature ran counter to “both public order and morality”.

Italy has pursued its claim against the chain – known in Spanish as La Mafia se sienta a la mesa – through various courts and official bodies over the past few years, alleging that the name trivialises both organised crime and efforts to fight it .

After years of court action and complaints, trademark office in Spain rules name is counter to ‘public order and morality’

A Spanish restaurant chain called The Mafia Sits at the Table may soon have to change its name after the country’s patent and trademark office heeded objections from the Italian government and ruled that the brand’s nomenclature ran counter to “both public order and morality”.

Italy has pursued its claim against the chain – known in Spanish as La Mafia se sienta a la mesa – through various courts and official bodies over the past few years, alleging that the name trivialises both organised crime and efforts to fight it .

German owner of Bild and Die Welt is understood to have agreed all-cash deal for one of UK’s oldest newspapers

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Axel Springer, the owner of Politico and Business Insider, is to acquire the Telegraph after tabling a £575m deal that has scuppered a rival deal from the owner of the Daily Mail.

Springer, which also owns Europe’s biggest newspaper, Bild, and the daily Die Welt, is understood to have agreed an all-cash deal for the Daily and Sunday Telegraph.

German owner of Bild and Die Welt is understood to have agreed all-cash deal for one of UK’s oldest newspapers

• Business live – latest updates

Axel Springer, the owner of Politico and Business Insider, is to acquire the Telegraph after tabling a £575m deal that has scuppered a rival deal from the owner of the Daily Mail.

Springer, which also owns Europe’s biggest newspaper, Bild, and the daily Die Welt, is understood to have agreed an all-cash deal for the Daily and Sunday Telegraph.

German owner of Bild and Die Welt is understood to have agreed all-cash deal for one of UK’s oldest newspapers

• Business live – latest updates

Axel Springer, the owner of Politico and Business Insider, is to acquire the Telegraph after tabling a £575m deal that has scuppered a rival deal from the owner of the Daily Mail.

Springer, which also owns Europe’s biggest newspaper, Bild, and the daily Die Welt, is understood to have agreed an all-cash deal for the Daily and Sunday Telegraph.

From dipping biscuits in mugs filled with baked beans to singing about eating custard, Look Mum No Computer’s Eins, Zwei, Drei is trying to win through novelty value. Will it backfire?

What is to be done about Britain’s lowly standing in the Eurovision song contest? It’s a question to which the obvious answer is: who cares? We’re led to believe millions across the UK are rendered livid on an annual basis by our poor showing – we’ve made the top 10 in the final once in the last 16 years – but you somehow never actually meet anyone who gives a monkey’s, despite the BBC’s Stakhanovite efforts to convince us that Eurovision is the musical event of the year. In 2023, Radio 2’s coverage involved broadcasting not merely the final itself, but a documentary, a Eurovision after-party show, both semi-finals, a show involving Sophie Ellis-Bextor playing non-stop Eurovision winners, a show involving Sophie Ellis-Bextor playing tunes from Eurovision celebrities, a show involving Sophie Ellis-Bextor playing Eurovision runners-up and an all-request Eurovision party: it is unrecorded if the latter was deluged with requests to make it stop.

It’s tempting to suggest that ranks of people who don’t care much about Eurovision either way includes those responsible for deciding Britain’s entry. Our solitary success in recent years was Sam Ryder coming second in 2022, a feat pulled off via the cunning new approach of equipping our entrant with a relatively memorable song, a well-written Elton/Bowie pastiche called Spaceman. You might have thought there was a lesson in there, but no. Normal service was resumed the following year. Try humming the chorus of Mae Muller’s vaguely Dua Lipa-ish Wrote A Song (2023), or Olly Alexander’s Dizzy (2024), or Remember Monday’s country-hued What The Hell Just Happened (2025), the latter pair scoring zero in the public vote. You can’t, can you?

From dipping biscuits in mugs filled with baked beans to singing about eating custard, Look Mum No Computer’s Eins, Zwei, Drei is trying to win through novelty value. Will it backfire?

What is to be done about Britain’s lowly standing in the Eurovision song contest? It’s a question to which the obvious answer is: who cares? We’re led to believe millions across the UK are rendered livid on an annual basis by our poor showing – we’ve made the top 10 in the final once in the last 16 years – but you somehow never actually meet anyone who gives a monkey’s, despite the BBC’s Stakhanovite efforts to convince us that Eurovision is the musical event of the year. In 2023, Radio 2’s coverage involved broadcasting not merely the final itself, but a documentary, a Eurovision after-party show, both semi-finals, a show involving Sophie Ellis-Bextor playing non-stop Eurovision winners, a show involving Sophie Ellis-Bextor playing tunes from Eurovision celebrities, a show involving Sophie Ellis-Bextor playing Eurovision runners-up and an all-request Eurovision party: it is unrecorded if the latter was deluged with requests to make it stop.

It’s tempting to suggest that ranks of people who don’t care much about Eurovision either way includes those responsible for deciding Britain’s entry. Our solitary success in recent years was Sam Ryder coming second in 2022, a feat pulled off via the cunning new approach of equipping our entrant with a relatively memorable song, a well-written Elton/Bowie pastiche called Spaceman. You might have thought there was a lesson in there, but no. Normal service was resumed the following year. Try humming the chorus of Mae Muller’s vaguely Dua Lipa-ish Wrote A Song (2023), or Olly Alexander’s Dizzy (2024), or Remember Monday’s country-hued What The Hell Just Happened (2025), the latter pair scoring zero in the public vote. You can’t, can you?

From dipping biscuits in mugs filled with baked beans to singing about eating custard, Look Mum No Computer’s Eins, Zwei, Drei is trying to win through novelty value. Will it backfire?

What is to be done about Britain’s lowly standing in the Eurovision song contest? It’s a question to which the obvious answer is: who cares? We’re led to believe millions across the UK are rendered livid on an annual basis by our poor showing – we’ve made the top 10 in the final once in the last 16 years – but you somehow never actually meet anyone who gives a monkey’s, despite the BBC’s Stakhanovite efforts to convince us that Eurovision is the musical event of the year. In 2023, Radio 2’s coverage involved broadcasting not merely the final itself, but a documentary, a Eurovision after-party show, both semi-finals, a show involving Sophie Ellis-Bextor playing non-stop Eurovision winners, a show involving Sophie Ellis-Bextor playing tunes from Eurovision celebrities, a show involving Sophie Ellis-Bextor playing Eurovision runners-up and an all-request Eurovision party: it is unrecorded if the latter was deluged with requests to make it stop.

It’s tempting to suggest that ranks of people who don’t care much about Eurovision either way includes those responsible for deciding Britain’s entry. Our solitary success in recent years was Sam Ryder coming second in 2022, a feat pulled off via the cunning new approach of equipping our entrant with a relatively memorable song, a well-written Elton/Bowie pastiche called Spaceman. You might have thought there was a lesson in there, but no. Normal service was resumed the following year. Try humming the chorus of Mae Muller’s vaguely Dua Lipa-ish Wrote A Song (2023), or Olly Alexander’s Dizzy (2024), or Remember Monday’s country-hued What The Hell Just Happened (2025), the latter pair scoring zero in the public vote. You can’t, can you?