There’s something incredible about food. To think that all it does is fuel us would just be naive. Although it certainly is where most of our energy and nutrients come from, food is so much more than that. Food is a way to show people you love them. It is a way to welcome someone into your home. If someone you know is going through a tough time, preparing food for them shows that you are thinking of them. Food brings people together. It has cultural and religious significance. But to me, one of the most fabulous things about food is that it helps to create memories. The foods that we eat and enjoy with those we love, and the foods that we eat at significant times in our lives become embedded in our mind as wonderful food memories. The great thing about this is that when we eat them again in the future those beautiful food memories can be relived.
Just as an FYI, you should know that this post is sponsored by Wonder White. But all opinions expressed by the author are 100% authentic and written in their own words.
Think back to when you were a kid. What did you eat on the beach in your summer holidays? What smells do you remember wafting through the kitchen in your home, or the home of your grandparents or your friends? What did you spend your 20 cents on at the tuck-shop back in the 80’s?
For me, there are so many fabulous food memories that I associate with my childhood. Yes, many of the recipes contained sugar or were fried and packed full of stuff that we’re “not meant to eat too much of” but this is not a post about clean-eating and the latest diet fad, this is a post about happy food memories of our childhoods. For me, there are almost too many food memories to list!
Each and every time I eat vegemite toast, or vegemite and butter on fluffy fresh Wonder White bread I am without a doubt transported back to the many days of my youth spent at my grandmother’s breakfast table. I am giggling uncontrollably at Nan who used to pretend that I was invisible. “Marie?! Where are you?! Come here right now and eat your breakfast!” she used to fake-shout as I sat there in front of her hysterically laughing. For some reason we never ate that much vegemite growing up at my house, but whenever we were at my grandmother’s we always had it for breakfast and so the wonderful memories of being with her come to mind when I eat it now.
Similarly, I cannot look at a stack of piping hot pancakes with a fountain of maple syrup pouring over the edge, and not think of my grandparents and the holidays that were spent at their beach house. It was at the yellow laminex bench in the beach-house kitchen that, perched on a stool, I used to get my elbows deep in self raising flour, eggs and milk whilst whisking together the perfect batter for our holiday breakfasts.