Showing posts with label fudge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fudge. Show all posts

Thursday, 9 August 2007

A souvenier from nowhere in particular

Badger was given some biscuits the other day. Shortbreads from Lindisfarne, they were. Not that the biscuits originated from Lindisfarne, you understand, but the box was decorated with pretty pictures of Lindisfarne. The biscuits were enjoyable to eat. This surprised me. I had expected them to resemble souvenir fudge in their gastronomic qualities...

Souvenir fudge - the ubiquitous fudge box from Cornwall, or Norfolk, or St Andrew's, or York, or... etc. It seems that wherever one goes, the same box of fudge can be bought - the one with the thin card sleeve and paper cover with a picture of the relevant location stuck on the front. Now, if the fudge such boxes contained was actually nice fudge, it would make a pretty good present. But has anyone ever received one of these boxes of fudge and appreciated the fudge for its inherent fudgeness, rather than because it shows evidence that you entered Auntie Linda's thoughts at least once whilst she was away? I suspect not. It might have been nice fudge once, perhaps, but one little nibble will reveal the certainty that it's been sitting on a shelf next to the generic jewellery and plastic dinosaurs for months before Auntie Linda bought it, and upwards of a year before that in a box in the back room of that godforsaken tat shop that time forgot in a godforsaken minor tourist spot. And it tastes like it. If it was good fudge, it wouldn't wind me up so much. But it's not, is it?

It doesn't stop at fudge. If it did, I wouldn't still be ranting. It's shortbread, too. And toffee. And rock. That horrible bright pink rock with the name of the location all the way through. It gets everywhere, carried to new and unassuming tourist destinations like a parasitic freeloader on the tourist trade. Absolutely, without exception, everywhere. I bet you now that when the first space tourists return from Mars, they'll bring some rock back. And an assortment of sodding shortbread, no doubt...

OK, I'm all ranted out. Now, would anyone like one of these lovely toffees I've just received from Barrow-In-Furness?