How could this have happened to me? I’m hooked. It all started at the British Airways lounge at Heathrow about six months ago. I picked up a plate and put what I thought were pretzels on it. They were not. They were Twiglets. At first bite I almost spat it out.
But over the course of the past months, whenever I have been in the lounge I seem to have reached for a few Twiglets. Then more.
Then, about a month ago, I read the packet. MARMITE!!! What!?!? I am American. I do peanut butter. I don’t do Marmite. I am not Australian or English or whatever you have to be to like Marmite. This was absurd. Growing up, my only exposure to anything of the sort was when Land Down Under by Men at Work made it towards the top of the US pop charts. There was some line about “vegemite sandwich”.
So yesterday morning at the caf, I ordered a bacon roll but the guy next to me ordered white toast with butter and marmite. Today I did the same, and I’m hooked. It doesn’t help that I have an addictive personality. I will be eating this stuff by the bucket loads.
1 comment:
i dated an Oz bloke for a bit. he like this crap too. i don't get it. he said that the key is lots of butter. i still don't buy it.
good to hear from you again in blogdom. i should take a cue.
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