The Darkest Evil the World Has Ever Known
Last night Mrs. Manion and I had Indian food. We like a good curry now and again. I got into Indian when I lived in the UK some years ago. The UK was a cool place. I was born there, but left as a kid.
(Air Force brat. Long story. They seized my accent and the extraneous U at the border, so now I can spell words like colour, honour, and favour, 18% faster than the average Briton.)
I also lived there during and after college for a couple of years. The UK has many wonderful things to recommend it. Two of my favorites were Hob Nobs and Merrydown Silver cider. Get me a tube and a bottle and I'm a happy camper. You can usually find the Hob Nobs in the US. Never tracked down the cider, though.
Unfortunately, the UK is also directly responsible for the greatest evil the world has ever known. Namely, Marmite.
Marmite: Lord of Darkness
"What's Marmite?" An innocent victim might ask. Well, according to the good people at Marmite, it's the following:
People will tell you that it's a lovely spread for use on toast and such. They'll also tell you that it's an integral ingredient in Twiglets (If Marmite is Satan, then Twiglets are like the Arch-Duke of hell or something. More on Twiglets later.)
Let me walk you through the typical Marmite experience.
1. Well intentioned Brit hand you a jar of Marmite and a piece of toast. "Try it," he says, "It's TRADITIONAL," he intones.
2. You look at the jar. It's cute. Small. Sort of like something a high end jam would come in.
3. You open the jar. Inside is something that looks like tar. But not as appealing.
4. You sniff delicately. It smells like something that decayed a good while ago.
5. You look questioningly at your host. "I think it might be past its prime," you say politely.
6. "What? No, it's fine, try it!" You host replies, putting the pressure on.
7. Well, I've eaten weirder stuff than yeast extract, you think, and spread some on your toast. The tar metaphor continues to apply as you lay the dark brown/black evil on your innocent slice of toast.
8. You taste. In order not to appear rude, you take a decent sized bite. You chew.
9. It hits you. It's like all the hounds of Hell have taken an Armageddon sized crap in your mouth. Repeatedly.
10. You struggle to control your gag reflex. In a supreme act of will, you swallow.
11. "Did you like it?" your host asks. "It's an acquired taste."
12. You stab your host repeatedly in vengeance for defiling your mouth forever.
Yeah, it's that bad. Seriously. No one ever believes me, and then they learn the hard way.
And on to Twiglets. Sidekick to evil.
For some reason, the technology to manufacture pretzels never made it to the UK. I couldn't tell you why. The closest thing they've got are Twiglets. They're basically pretzel thins baked in, you guessed it, Marmite.
You've been out drinking, you've got the munchies, and you want pretzels. You look the bag. The picture looks right. The slogans are... peculiar.... "Satisfyingly 89% fat free!!" ... "Extremely crunchy!!" ... "Hazardously knobbly!!"
The knobbly thing should be a warning, but hey, you're drunk.
You shell out your 1.49 and dig in. And you've just been orally ambushed by Satan's little buddy. Repeat steps 9 and 10.
It really is that bad.
So on your next trip, have fun, try the Red Fort on Dean St. in Soho, and kill anyone who tries to push Marmite on you. You'll thank me later.
LM
(Air Force brat. Long story. They seized my accent and the extraneous U at the border, so now I can spell words like colour, honour, and favour, 18% faster than the average Briton.)
I also lived there during and after college for a couple of years. The UK has many wonderful things to recommend it. Two of my favorites were Hob Nobs and Merrydown Silver cider. Get me a tube and a bottle and I'm a happy camper. You can usually find the Hob Nobs in the US. Never tracked down the cider, though.
Unfortunately, the UK is also directly responsible for the greatest evil the world has ever known. Namely, Marmite.
Marmite: Lord of Darkness
"What's Marmite?" An innocent victim might ask. Well, according to the good people at Marmite, it's the following:
- Yeast Extract
- Salt
- Vegetable Extract
- Niacin
- Thiamin
- Spice Extracts
- Riboflavin
- Folic Acid
- Vitamin B12
People will tell you that it's a lovely spread for use on toast and such. They'll also tell you that it's an integral ingredient in Twiglets (If Marmite is Satan, then Twiglets are like the Arch-Duke of hell or something. More on Twiglets later.)
Let me walk you through the typical Marmite experience.
1. Well intentioned Brit hand you a jar of Marmite and a piece of toast. "Try it," he says, "It's TRADITIONAL," he intones.
2. You look at the jar. It's cute. Small. Sort of like something a high end jam would come in.
3. You open the jar. Inside is something that looks like tar. But not as appealing.
4. You sniff delicately. It smells like something that decayed a good while ago.
5. You look questioningly at your host. "I think it might be past its prime," you say politely.
6. "What? No, it's fine, try it!" You host replies, putting the pressure on.
7. Well, I've eaten weirder stuff than yeast extract, you think, and spread some on your toast. The tar metaphor continues to apply as you lay the dark brown/black evil on your innocent slice of toast.
8. You taste. In order not to appear rude, you take a decent sized bite. You chew.
9. It hits you. It's like all the hounds of Hell have taken an Armageddon sized crap in your mouth. Repeatedly.
10. You struggle to control your gag reflex. In a supreme act of will, you swallow.
11. "Did you like it?" your host asks. "It's an acquired taste."
12. You stab your host repeatedly in vengeance for defiling your mouth forever.
Yeah, it's that bad. Seriously. No one ever believes me, and then they learn the hard way.
And on to Twiglets. Sidekick to evil.
For some reason, the technology to manufacture pretzels never made it to the UK. I couldn't tell you why. The closest thing they've got are Twiglets. They're basically pretzel thins baked in, you guessed it, Marmite.
You've been out drinking, you've got the munchies, and you want pretzels. You look the bag. The picture looks right. The slogans are... peculiar.... "Satisfyingly 89% fat free!!" ... "Extremely crunchy!!" ... "Hazardously knobbly!!"
The knobbly thing should be a warning, but hey, you're drunk.
You shell out your 1.49 and dig in. And you've just been orally ambushed by Satan's little buddy. Repeat steps 9 and 10.
It really is that bad.
So on your next trip, have fun, try the Red Fort on Dean St. in Soho, and kill anyone who tries to push Marmite on you. You'll thank me later.
LM
posted by Lance Manion at 1:01 PM
3 Comments:
Is the Red Fort still there? That place was awesome.
Dead right on about the Marmite and Twiglets. Word to that. It's like a Satanic load o' goo on your toast. A big steaming load.
You know who liked Marmite? Dougie. Right up there with "mixed nuts". One night he ate an entire jar of it. He puked, but he ate the whole thing. Oh, that crazy Dougie.
I too like Indian food. Last week I had a scorching Murg Vindaloo that rinsed out every digestive mistake that lurked within my guts.
I'll order something a little safer next time. Maybe some Tandoori.
Silly boy. Marmite is the food of the gods.
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