That was how the fast-food franchise thing first came to be, apparently. By completely standardising the customer experience, the first chain (I forget which that was, but it wasn't MacD's) injected a heretofore missing sense of "I trust these people because I know the owner personally" by creating a feeling of "I trust these people because they do the same as every other restaurant in the chain", so ameliorating the widespread risk of undercooked (or downright dodgy) meat in the days before the current levels of H&S and enforced catering standards.
But, really, without even going into "I'll have Dodo Sorbet every night, washed down with a glass of Unicorn Milk" territory, as powerful a person as he is (even back in his Apprentice days) should be able to command a decent on-site chef.
Unless he suffers from Poison Paranoia, and is carefully importing food guaranteed to be (no more than averagely) undangerous. In which case, may I suggest he reads Nanny Ogg's Cookbook and pages 32-33 (in both hardback and softback versions I have, at least) from Lord Vetinari, who describes how one might survive assassination attempts by either carefully juggling randomised samples of bread and water to remove moat of the risks of inhumation or else be like Havelock himself and remove all such concerns entirely from the equation.