I DO remember my FIRST real peach, post war, and also some years later, being introduced by older more sophisticated friends to REAL spaghetti (the kind in the 3 foot long!blue wrapper), wonderful, as opposed to the indescribable “I refuse to disgust the reader” stuff in tins that we had on Wed. evenings. However, when trauma does set in…
I DO remember my FIRST real peach, post war, and also some years later, being introduced by older more sophisticated friends to REAL spaghetti (the kind in the 3 foot long!blue wrapper), wonderful, as opposed to the indescribable “I refuse to disgust the reader” stuff in tins that we had on Wed. evenings. However, when trauma does set in, occasionally, I still resort to UK Heinz Baked Beans on toast washed away by a large ancient single Malt!
I DO remember my FIRST real peach, post war, and also some years later, being introduced by older more sophisticated friends to REAL spaghetti (the kind in the 3 foot long!blue wrapper), wonderful, as opposed to the indescribable “I refuse to disgust the reader” stuff in tins that we had on Wed. evenings. However, when trauma does set in, occasionally, I still resort to UK Heinz Baked Beans on toast washed away by a large ancient single Malt!