Precious Treasures

As mentioned in an earlier post, I grew up in a British Commonwealth country. I became accustomed to tea and biscuits, addicted to Rose’s Lime Juice Cordial, Double Devon Cream, Lemon Curd and Marmite, and stopped eating chocolate when I moved back to the U.S. because it didn’t taste like Cadbury’s or any of the European chocolate on which I’d trained my taste buds. At first, there was gnashing of teeth as there were no stores near me that carried any British or European specialty food products, but over time, thankfully, these stores have become more abundant. The favored one in my present wandering area is Ye Olde King’s Head Shoppe in Santa Monica.

A British friend introduced me to the shop, and I’ll never forget my first step through the door. It’s a shame John Cleese et al. weren’t my companions, for it was the classic sky-opening-cherubs-descending-choral-ahhhs-enlightenment moment. I instantly lowered my voice to hushed tones, as though walking through a High Gothic cathedral, and slowly, silently approached the shelves containing McVities, Weetabix, Scottish Shortbread, Gooseberry Jam, Mint Imperials and Marmite, reverently stroking each item with appropriate solemnity. The Cadbury aisle nearly sent me into a Jehovah-ecstasy moment. 

So, it’s quite understandable that after receiving my “Verboten Weizen!” commandment, my distress level heightened as I had just purchased these items of joy…and now I couldn’t use them. I am happy to inform you that fabulous British chef Phil Vickery’s cookbook is saving the day, and I’m blissfully nom-ing through home-made breads slathered with yummy goodness.

Ahhhhhhhh!

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