I had what you might call unusual complementary eating and drinking habits as a child.
Well let's face it, with my mother's "boot and boil" approach to cooking, I had to supplement my diet somehow.
Don't get me wrong, I ate heartily enough. I had to. Otherwise I would be reminded of the starving children elsewhere in the world and how much better off I was.
But mealtimes weren't particularly enjoyable, and realising that she was no Mrs Beeton, my mother would allow me the occasional treat.
It might have been, for example, a cream doughnut from the Upper Crust bakery in the high street or a bowl of Ambrosia rice pudding (sure my mother made her own, but the tinned version tasted so much better).
Spaghetti hoops or baked beans - once again straight from the can of course, were other favourites
Sometimes I would be permitted a packet of salt and vinegar crisps and a Curly Wurly for the Saturday matinee performances at the local cinema.
While those goodies weren't so unusual, the little extras which I willingly consumed on a daily basis, certainly were - at least with hindsight.
Cod liver oil, for example - a spoonful a day, no problem
A glass of Andrews liver salts was my fizzy drink.
Haliborange vitamins, even though I didn't really need them, were my real "sweets".
But the icing on the cake (forgive the feeble idiom) and the product that helped me through childhood mealtimes was Heinz salad cream.
I loved the stuff. I would smother my chips with it or happily dip any (that means "all") overdone meat and veg in the small serving I was allowed sometimes to accompany my meals.
And then there were the sandwiches - with or without any other filling. Pure heaven!
By the time I started college, I had more or less kicked the habit. But from time to time I would indulge myself with what my housemates called a "disgusting Summerton special" - Dairylea cheese, stick-to-the-palate Mother's Pride bread and lashings of salad cream.
That was then. And now is...well, now.
Having spent the best part of two decades living outside of the UK, I haven't really felt the urge to revisit childhood habits (well, I think the cod liver oil probably speaks for itself) or those that lasted a little longer.
Over time I've either forgotten about cravings or found replacements.
Oh yes, and I like to think (pompously) that my tastes have become more "refined".
I know all those products are available at specialist shops, some supermarkets and yes, can be bought over the Net.
But for better or for worse, I've moved on.
Or at least I thought I had.
Because the other day while wandering the aisles of Leclerc and stopping at the produits du monde section for soya sauce and tofu (you see how "sophisticated" I've become), a long-lost and much-loved sight caught my eye...a bottle of Heinz salad cream.
It beckoned to me and I couldn't resist. The child (and young adult) in me remembering, and into the trolley it went.
Back home for lunch, there was no difficulty in deciding what I would prepare myself. An updated "disgusting Summerton special": Comté cheese, baguette and a copious helping of salad cream.
I couldn't wait, breaking open the bottle and dolloping the stuff on to my haute cuisine meal.
And that first mouthful...
It was totally and utterly...
...disgusting.
It wasn't the cheese.
It wasn't the baguette.
It was the Heinz salad cream. I simply didn't like the taste any longer.
What had been such a fond childhood memory was just that. A memory.
The "pourable sunshine" is headed for the bin.
)
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Wednesday, 12 March 2014
Tuesday, 30 July 2013
Grace lies down on the job
Feeding time in the Summerton dog household can be quite a revealing affair.
Well, at least in terms of the dogs' characters (forgive the anthropomorphising and indulge me for a moment).
It takes place just once a day and in the morning.
It's a choice to encourage greedy Cockers and Labs to remain as slimline as possible and thereby (unfortunately) guaranteeing that the "Master of the House" will be woken by quite another sort of dawn chorus to that of chirruping birds.
While Mrs Kipling (as you might recall) launches herself snout first into her bowl, scattering the contents across the floor as though this is the first and last meal of her life, Belle very primly, properly eats one biscuit at a time as she contemplates what naughtiness she can engage in later on.
And Grace? Well she takes quite a different approach.
After being guided gently to her usual place (she's blind and has been from birth, but that didn't stop her breeder from using her as a "puppy factory" before dumping her at the SPA after she had served her time), Grace falls head first into the serious business of eating.
But the excitement and effort is - quite literally - almost too much for her.
And rather than trying to retain some semblance of elegance as she wolfs down her food, she chooses instead to...well, take a look at the video.
Bon appétit Grace.
Well, at least in terms of the dogs' characters (forgive the anthropomorphising and indulge me for a moment).
It takes place just once a day and in the morning.
It's a choice to encourage greedy Cockers and Labs to remain as slimline as possible and thereby (unfortunately) guaranteeing that the "Master of the House" will be woken by quite another sort of dawn chorus to that of chirruping birds.
While Mrs Kipling (as you might recall) launches herself snout first into her bowl, scattering the contents across the floor as though this is the first and last meal of her life, Belle very primly, properly eats one biscuit at a time as she contemplates what naughtiness she can engage in later on.
And Grace? Well she takes quite a different approach.
After being guided gently to her usual place (she's blind and has been from birth, but that didn't stop her breeder from using her as a "puppy factory" before dumping her at the SPA after she had served her time), Grace falls head first into the serious business of eating.
But the excitement and effort is - quite literally - almost too much for her.
And rather than trying to retain some semblance of elegance as she wolfs down her food, she chooses instead to...well, take a look at the video.
Bon appétit Grace.
Labels:
Belle,
Cocker Spaniel,
dogs,
food,
Grace,
Labrador,
Mrs Kipling
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