Spread the joy…

Heinz Sandwich Spread, bit of a Marmite moment? Love it or hate it?
I love it.
I was first introduced to Heinz Sandwich Spread as a young boy in the mid-1960s, it was in our food cupboard at home and would be used as its name suggests in sandwiches, with cheese, with cold meats and salad.

I liked to play, “Find the mustard seed”, mustard seeds being one of the ingredients, by the simple expedient of rolling the stuff around in my mouth until I found one of the elusive little seeds with my tongue whereupon I would stick my tongue out with the seed on the tip. Actually, I still do this…

Such fun, such simple pleasures.

I remember once asking my mother, upon finding that we hadn’t got any in the cupboard, if she would buy some more next time she went shopping. She told me that she might buy some more but not that she would buy some more, she then went on to explain that it was expensive.

Well, that’s how I remember it, it wasn’t a definite yes at any rate. And the cupboard, keeping it in the cupboard? Well, yes, I think we used to keep a lot of things in the cupboard that have subsequently revealed that they like to be kept refrigerated after opening. I don’t think we even had a fridge when I was very young.

I can picture in my mind’s eye the kitchen, the sink and draining board, the geyser above the sink, the cooker, the door to the stairwell, the door to the cupboard under the stairs, the door out into the garden (outside loo just to the left), the kitchen table, and the kitchen cabinet. I know I’ve been saying cupboard, but it was a blue and white free-standing cabinet. Cupboard space below, a pull-down flap which served as a food preparation surface and mesh doors to the cupboard space above, but I don’t remember there being a fridge.

Then came an epiphany, nay, a revelation…

I would often go and play at a friend’s house, Brendan Olney; Brendan’s parents always seemed more cosmopolitan and bohemian than mine were, well, you know, the grass is always greener etc. Not that I knew what the words cosmopolitan or bohemian meant at the time, but they were just, different, in a nice way. His mother always seemed to be barefoot and his father, a six-foot plus giant of a man with long hair and a beard, worked for British Railways or London Transport, I can’t remember, but it was one of the two and his position entitled his family to discounted travel.

One day I was included on a jaunt with Brendan and his mother, down to the Science Museum in South Kensington. I remember that my parents had given me the money for the train fare, but Brendan’s mother pretended that I was one of her children and so got a cheaper ticket. She did have another child, a girl a few years younger than Brendan and me, but as they, Brendan, and his sister, were dark-haired and I was evidently a ginger, I was in fear of being caught out. In the end everything was alright, well, except for the fact that I succumbed to motion sickness on the underground and left a small deposit on the floor of the carriage. Brendan’s mother as I recall was a tad upset with me, my mother was mortified when she found out. Anyway, in the end a good time was had at the museum and I was fine on the way back.

But I mentioned a revelation. One evening, Brendan’s mother suggested that I stay for tea and I readily accepted. Maybe there was a telephone call to my mother to inform her of this, but I don’t recall. So there I was, sitting on the floor with Brendan in their front room, watching TV and Brendan’s mother came in with a plate of Sandwich Spread on toast.

I could hardly believe my eyes, who’d have thought? Sandwich Spread, on toast!
I can’t begin to explain how revolutionary this seemed.
Sandwich Spread… on toast, ON TOAST!

If I had known of the words cosmopolitan and bohemian back then, I’d certainly have thought that that’s exactly what I was being. Wow! This was like being on a different planet. Sandwich Spread, on toast.

And so, even to this day, when I feel like a little comfort food, when I feel like I want to just curl-up and go back to the 1960s, I treat myself to Sandwich Spread on toast.