marmite

Jeff comes home from the cottage today. Time to do a mad rush around the apartment, closing cupboard doors and drawers all the way, putting away my guitar (I've been practising barre chords again), cleaning the marmite off the kitchen counter.

Speaking of marmite. Dear Teddy convinced me to try the marmite again, but this time spread Very Thinly on a freshly-baked slice of bread slathered with butter. I'm too lazy to get out my breadmaker (I can picture you bread-making purists toppling over in shock as I type), so had to content myself with a slice of frozen Dempster's 100% whole wheat. Too impatient to wait for it to thaw from the freezer, so I toasted an icy slice instead. No butter (we're a margarine family here, mainly because I'm too impatient to wait for butter to soften after taking it from the fridge, and there's nothing worse than trying to spread cold butter on a slice of bread...you either get unappetizing chunks of the stuff scattered over the surface, or you end up with the bread falling to pieces in your hands. Wow, this is certainly a long parenthetical statement) so I used margarine instead.

I can report now that I definitely Do Not Like Marmite.

AN ODE TO MARMITE by Deborah Marion Kazumi Ridpath Ohi I Dedicated lovingly to Teddy, who introduced me to the stuff Oh sludgy brown foul-smelling paste, It's been three hours yet I taste your gustatorial poison still, it lingers on my tongue and kills my tastebuds (likely brain cells, too!) Oh Marmite, I do not like you. The End. Copyright © 2000 Debbie Ridpath Ohi.

Andrea pointed out another ode to marmite online (thanks Andrea!).

(Today's blatherphoto: another picture taken by Jeff on our digital camera, up near our cottage in Algonquin Park.)

Blather follow-up:
My friend Andy just wrote: "If you keep your butter in a covered butter dish instead of the fridge, it will stay soft and tasty, and you won't need to taste that grey rendered fat dyed with industrial level chemicals. (the margarine, not the marmite)."