What’s your earliest food memory? A visit to my hometown of Sidmouth in East Devon over the Easter weekend has inspired this question. I’ve two very early memories of food. The first is of my sister running dipping her forefinger into a pot of marmite that had been left open on the side of our kitchen. The bigger sis by four years, I copied her without question though, always wanting to outdo her, scooped out an even bigger blob of the black sticky stuff, which I swallowed in one bitter gulp. The rest of the evening was spent bent over the toilet basin.
My second memory is of my sister running around the house with her pockets full of pastry. I can only assume that mum had made quiches and there was a dinner party involved as these seemed to be the moments where my sister and I, desperately excited, would skip about the place eating and showing off. (Such a combination culminated in my being sick on more than one occasion).
Fast forward twenty-odd years and I wonder what’s changed. Mum no longer makes quiches at her dinner parties, but my sister – who accompanied me on my recent countryside jaunt – and I still get over-excited when friends, family and food come together. Though neither of us suffered upset tummies and my sister doesn’t stuff her pockets with pastry any more, we did still gorge ourselves on the stuff (thanks to Andy). Mille Feulle filled with strawberry and lemon cream; an array of feta, goat’s, caramelised onion tarts and parmesan straws made from the left over bits. Evidently, we still love pastry.
What are your earliest food memories?
Bex Hobson: Blogger-at-Large for the Abergavenny Food Festival