
I have an excellent memory. Well I should clarify, I have an excellent memory for food. Names and so called “important things” …well unfortunately not. Last week I was in New Zealand and I had met so many people and animals (with human names) that when someone asked me about “Tom” I said in a confused manner, “Who was Tom again?”. Turns out Tom was a sheep…Oh dear!
When my family and I discuss various events it’s always with the prompt “Don’t you remember? That’s when we ate the chicken dish that we all really liked.” One of us would say “Who else was there?” and inevitably we’d scratch our heads and wonder who our fellow company was, at a complete loss. However we all knew that the chicken dish was there as company.
When we were small my mother took my sister and I into the city to get our passports to travel overseas. As such we had to behave and not act up. As a reward, and she knew the only kind of reward we were really interested in was food, we would get a sausage sandwich. Our eyes widened. We had never tried one before. Sure we had had hot dogs and sausage rolls (my tuck shop item of choice) but not a grilled sausage sandwich. When she handed me the soft bun with the sausage and onions I melted. The city around me ceased to exist as I ate the sausage and the bun stopping halfway worried that it would be another nine years until I tried another one. It must have taken me about 10 minutes to eat it and my mother didn’t lose patience with us. You see she was also enjoying it too having not had many of these. You’d think we were very sheltered to these things and I suppose we were!
































