Ok from that title, it may sound like I'm gonna do another super serious post but I'm not.
Suffice it to say Marcel Proust took an awful lot of words to tell us...
Our senses of smell and taste are powerful memory triggers.
In his case it was madelaine biscuits and a particular kind of tea. For me this week it has been the cooking of marmalade.
When my mum was alive she made seville orange marmalade every year and as stocks of the house vintage have now dwindled, I decided that I needed to explore this curiously domestic-goddess-like activity.
As my seville oranges were cooking, the smell that wafted through my house reminded me of watching my mother cook in a way mere recollectioncould not possibly conjure. It was a pleasant recollection that made me smile.
Yet it was not only this memory that it triggered. It also reminded me of one of mum's rather curious sandwich creations. Now I have never grown a desire to eat her most incredible combination of cheese, lettuce, marmite and peanut butter but some of the others did tickle my fancy.
Now I'd remembered raisin sandwiches and condensed milk sandwiches but until I smelt that marmalade cooking, I had forgotten about one of my favourites:
Marmalade and cheese.
Now I can HEAR you now AND see those little faces scrunching up in horror but trust me... They're scrumptious. I had one today for the first time in, well at least three years. I may well have another tomorrow!