Running out of Marmite

After a long time away from the keyboard I am finally making a comeback.  Not just in the blogging sense, I am also making a comeback to the motherland.  Oh that great and politically stable (tongue firmly in cheek) nation of mine is calling me.  It is time to go back to the UK. 

I was shocked and disappointed the other morning when in a haze of sleep I went to apply the wonder that is Marmite to my heavily butter laden crumpet, only to be met with a scarily empty stupid squeezy plastic bottle.  Having never made peace with the redesigned Marmite “bottle”, this just compounded the situation.  With the old glass jars, you were aware for weeks that you were running out, all that scraping around with a butter knife in the top corners was a firm reminder that you needed to put Marmite on the shopping list.  However, with the new design you never know how much you have left and also, crumpets being full of holes don’t like having Marmite squeezed on them as you end up with very uneven Marmite coverage. 

Anyway, I don’t want this to become too much of a bitter diatribe against Marmite bottles but it did get me thinking about the foods that we have grown up with and how much they stay with us throughout our lives.  Most of my childhood memories are centred around food.  I remember standing on a stool in the kitchen with my Nanny and her teaching me to make Jam tarts and I definitely remember showing her how I could fit an entire jam tart in my mouth without breaking it.  And yes I do have an abnormally large oral aperture.  Memories of my big sister making homemade chips with lots and lots of vinegar.  Sneaking handfuls of peanuts from my gym bag in the narrow, rickety corridors of my primary school.  Being taught to make the best mashed potatoes in the world by my Granddad.  Watching as my Dad tried to make ‘proper’ gravy which involved roasting lots of vegetables and shouting lots of expletives at inanimate objects.  And standing by my mother every day after school and watching and helping her cook everything from risotto to curry to stew, the list goes on.  She was a thoroughly modern woman, risotto and curry weren’t exactly de rigueur at everyone’s houses in the 80’s. 

Anyway, it is time to go home and be with the people who look like me and cook like me, what a pleasure it will be to eat my sisters roast dinner, have my Mum make me grilled tomatoes on toast when I’m feeling tired and vulnerable and have my Dad make me Cornish saffron bread.  Oh, the wonders of home. 

Tell me your food memories…



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4 responses to “Running out of Marmite

  1. Nic

    The first time I mistakenly tried chili without realizing it was when I was about 5. Dad used to be a cook in a tavern and so on the weekends he’d experiment. One particular weekend mum and I were making a cake and dad was doing a curry. Dad past me some of those glace cherries to try, unknowingly, it had become lightly dusted in chili powder. This was not good for my five year old palate. I screamed, my face turned red, tears streaming down my face, and I refused to eat curry for many years after that, unless mum made them and they were very mild.
    I know love chili, the more the better. I even craved it when I was pregnant with my first baby and spread chili chutney on my sandwiches!

  2. Coming home from school to the smell of fresh cupcakes and buttercream icing, or freshly made lamingtons made by my darling mother.

  3. Gillian

    Hey Meals, this is my friends review blog…..i notice her most recent post is bars, pubs and restaurants in london…..isn’t that just what you were asking for on facebook the other day?



  4. Ayesha

    Ok I’ve been sourcing restaurants for you whilst I am unemployed 😉 Well, you are my excuse to eat good food even though I can’t afford to 😉 One that has stood out which is a must go is Dinings, near Baker St, beautiful Japanese tapas (the chef and owner used to be at Nobu) – Coriander bombs with sea bass and chilli lemon fish, Wagyu beef tataki with truffle salsa and ponzu jelly (amazing!!), the sashimi plate is so fresh the garlic almost blew my head off and even the soba noodles (basic, as it should be) was full of flavour I took to drinking the broth straight out of the bowl (ahh the minging backpacker shines through!). We must go, the venue is nothing special, a tiny little basement with very basic surroundings which I thought was actually a nice change, no pretention; it’s all about the food!
    Hix hadn’t changed its menu since I’ve been away, no longer my favourite, although they have opened one in Soho (more media typish) so perhaps they have been putting all efforts into that, will try and get there to test it out before you come… especially for you of course! 😉 Polpo, new(ish) lively Italian tapas in Soho, which is apparently ‘up there’ according to you chef types, have a look at the reviews 😉 Unfortunately I got too pissed to really remember what I ate, although I think if it was that amazing I would remember something at least no?! Will be sourcing bars soon, bagged myself a job so should be on a roll by the time you get here xx Squaremeal and Harden are generally good guides I find xx

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