4 March 2011

Remaining True To Memory

When I was a kid Saturdays consisted of waking up at about 10:00am, turning over and switching the portable TV next to my bed on so I could watch Airwolf, then off down stairs I went for breakfast. Saturday meant Sausages, mashed potatoes, fried eggs and beans for dinner, every Saturday was the same. Later I would go outside and play with my brother unless Steve and Mcgarrot my Action men had some kind of mission that needed to be done. Tea time was usually the same each week, Banana sandwiches with a slab of cake of one sort or another and chocky biscuits.

[caption id="attachment_2981" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Battenberg"][/caption]

I think that either by brother or I must have told our Grandma (who used to live with us) that I liked Battenberg cake the best because for months or even longer after that, that was all we were given, pure heaven.

Even now as an adult (allegedly), Battenberg reminds me of Saturdays as a kid a confectionery delight I had not had the pleasure of eating for nearly two decades, I had honestly thought that they had vanished from our shelves like the humble Texan bar or that caramel thing with nuts round the outside that came in a shiny brown wrapper, that was until the other week when I happened to mention it to my wife after dwelling on the memories of said cake after seeing it being made on the Hair Bikers TV show a few months earlier. While out shopping my wife came across the cake of my childhood and brought it home where it stayed in the fridge for a few days.

Most of you might know the feeling of craving something to the point where you can almost taste it, memories come flooding back of those carefree childhood days, then come the worries that like most other things these days it will have changed and not taste as you remembered or it has changed, dashing your memories to tiny little bits, that was me. Eventually I bit the bullet and cut a chunk of Battenberg off, slowly I lifted it to my mouth reveling in the aroma given from the yellow marzipan, then in it went, my taste buds exploded and the memories of childhood Saturday afternoons came flooding back, banana sandwiches, being sat in the sitting room, plates on our knees as we watched Jim`ll Fix it or the A Team.

As we grow up we find that many things change or at least are not how we remember them being when we were children. My memories have not been tarnished and cast to the four winds as the Battenberg cake has remained true to its self, refusing to bow to the 21st century unlike other confectionery delights of our childhood.

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