When I was a kid, I used to absolutely love a strange, weirdly white sticky confection filled with gooey blobs of … I am not sure what – I think, perhaps ju-jube, but they were brightly coloured, in bar form and called, imperiously Roman Nougat.
I don’t like cherries. I never have.
We had two huge, and aesthetically beautiful cherry trees growing in our yard, when I was growing up.
Inevitably, when running around bare-footed, in the summer when the cherries were ripe, I would step on them, and the feeling of them squishing underfoot was akin to stepping on a slug (another thing I always managed to do at least once a year – and we have BIG slugs in British Columbia). [Read more…]