Tag: Marmite

Guest Post: 7 Reasons My Wife Buys The Best Presents

Just supposing, for instance, that this was the last Guest Post we ever published. Who would you like it to be written by? I suspect at least 26% of you would choose Richard O’Hagan. Like Dr Simon Percy Jennifer Best who posted last week and Liz Gregory who posted a few weeks ago, Richard is a 7 Reasons stalwart. He’s the author of The Memory Blog, the face behind @theskiver and he likes marmite. That, we think, is all you need to know.

Crisps!

It recently came to my attention that there are people out there who make a career of going shopping for other people. Now, personally, I cannot think of anything worse than going shopping for other people. I mean, going shopping for myself is stressful enough. Going shopping for presents doubly so. Why on earth would you want to make a career out of it*?

Fortunately**, I am married to a woman who also hates shopping. Which therefore makes it even more surprising that she is the best present buyer ever. I don’t just mean by comparison with me, either, because I am completely rubbish at it (one year I gave her a cheese grater as a gift). Just consider this: The People Who Buy Presents For Other People need you to give them some sort of a list, so that they know roughly what to get. I have a wish list on Amazon – two of them, in fact – and my wife almost never uses it. Instead, she uses her initiative to come up with wonderful gifts such as this:

1. A Box of Seabrook’s Tomato Ketchup Crisps. My life is an endless quest for ketchup flavoured crisps, and has been ever since I first tried them on our honeymoon. Since when I have rarely seen them in the shops, not even in the USA where, frankly, you’d expect the locals to be munching them down for breakfast lunch and dinner. It had never occurred to me to simply see if you could buy them off the internet, but my wife did.

2. A Cross Pen. No, not an angry writing implement. I once commented to my wife that my Tombo fountain pen seemed to be nearing the end of its life. I then thought no more of it until, approximately three months later, I received a beautiful Cross pen as a Christmas present. A pen of such high quality that I’ve had to learn how to write with it. And I didn’t even ask for it.

3. A Book About Scriptwriting. For almost two years now (or over two years, depending upon when this gets published) I have been labouring over a script for a television comedy. It is very hard to get a script commissioned if you are not either an established writer, or related to one, or both. It hadn’t even occurred to me that there are books that I could consult about the subject, but this one now nestles in my bedside cabinet where I can dip into it whenever I want. So far, it has been invaluable.

4. A Letter Opener. I don’t get much mail, and most of what I do get is either bills that I have already received online and magazines that I subscribe to. But every now and then I get a proper letter, in a proper envelope, and I need to open it. My fingers are not only large, but they are often in a state of mangledness after a close encounter with a cricket ball or a rugby boot. I have always wanted a letter opener and was therefore extremely pleased when my wife gave me one as a Christmas present, even though I still cannot recall mentioning to her that I wanted one.

5. Marmite Spoons. That’s right, spoons for scooping the yummy delight that it Marmite out of the jar and onto your bread, toast or whatever. Each has a different Marmite jar on the top. You can’t beat being able to offer your guests Marmite with a special spoon. Words cannot describe the envious looks that I get.

6. A CD Subscription. Did you know that Rough Trade Records have a subscription service? I didn’t. My wife did. It is a very simple plan. You give them money and each month they choose a new CD and send it to you. You discover music that you might not listen to otherwise. It is like the Olympics ticket lottery, only you actually get something at the end of it. A brilliant idea, and a brilliant gift

7. Cricket. Not a gift that you can easily giftwrap, I’ll admit. Cricket may be the best game on the planet, but even I have to admit that it can take a little while to play. Despite this, my wife has never once tried to stop me playing it, or going to watch it, and lumbering her with our exuberant child to look after. There are not many better gifts that selflessly letting someone do something they love.

All of which means that you can forget using any of these services, because they will never be as inventive at gift buying as my wife is. Now, where did I put that cheese grater?

*Unless you are my mother, who would regard this as a dream job.

**For me, not necessarily for her.

October 22, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Everyone Should Eat Marmite

In the last few weeks we have been inundated with phone calls, emails, faxes, carrier pigeons and one – entirely unrelated – message wrapped around a brick. ‘Where is he?’ they’ve been asking. ‘Is he coming back?’ ‘Is he as beautiful as his writing?’ All of this hyperbole meant that we couldn’t post on Tuesday.* (And Marc was at Knitting Club** which didn’t help either). So the only way we felt we could apologise for that faux-pas adequately was to give you what you want. Who you want. So yesterday Marc and I set off to get him. As it turned out we didn’t have to go far. He was waiting outside. In the rain. Unshaven and looking desperate. So we brought him in (me), dried him off (Marc) and knitted him a new jumper (Marc). And now we’re pleased to say he’s back in top form. And more importantly hers back on the sofa. Ladies and gentlemen, would you please raise your Marmite jars to the perrenialist of all our perennial guest writers, Mr Richard O’Hagan.

After Richard had been bathed and shaved by Marc, he was ready to write.

There’s no lead in to this one, no drop paragraph or anything like that. Eating Marmite is so obviously the correct thing to do:

1. Tipple. It is made from beer. Do I really need to say more than that? Marmite is the yeast that is left after beer is made (roughly speaking). Anything that is made from beer has to be good, right? In fact, do you really need another six reasons?

2. All Man. It got its makers accused of promoting homosexuality. Yes, really. Back in the early 2000s, they ran an ad campaign where a male lifeguard was seen giving the kiss of life to a male swimmer. In the week that it was first shown, the manufacturers received an angry letter from a man who accused them of promoting homosexuality. For the avoidance of doubt, Marmite will not make you a homosexual unless you were one in the first place.

3. Aesthetics. It comes in a distinctive jar. The only thing that looks like a Marmite jar is a marmite, the French cooking pot after which it is named (again, for the avoidance of doubt, Marmite isn’t French). If you are eating Marmite, no casual observer can be in any doubt as to what it is you are eating. That jar says, “I am a Marmite eater, and proud of it”.

4. Something For Everyone. They make special versions of it. As well as regular Marmite, you have been able to eat Champagne Marmite, Guinness Marmite, Marmite XO and even Marston’s Pedigree Marmite. Do you get special versions of peanut butter? Or strawberry jam? No. Further evidence of Marmite’s superiority.

5. Roasts. You can add it to gravy. If you want to give your gravy an extra kick, just add a spoonful of Marmite. Not only is this tip suitable for vegetablists (Marmite is vegetablist friendly), you try adding marmalade to gravy and see what you get.

6. Cheddar. You can add it to cheese. Ever had a raspberry jam and cheddar sandwich? Thought not. I’ll save you the trouble. It is horrible. Cheddar and Marmite, on the other hand, is a marriage made in heaven – so much so that you can now buy Marmite Cheddar.

7. Greed. My wife doesn’t like it. Thus ensuring that there is all the more for me.***

Now go forth, eat Marmite, and enrich your lives.

*Many thanks to Alex Clement-Meehan for retweeting nothing anyway. She’s obsessed.

**100% true.

***7 Reasons would like to apologise for the contradiction that appears in reason seven. Perhaps the title of this post should have been ‘7 Reasons Why Everyone Apart From Mrs O’Hagan Should Eat Marmite’?

August 6, 2011
7 Reasons That The UK Should Ban Carlsberg

1. Retaliation. Relations between the UK and Denmark have long been difficult.   From the eighth to the eleventh centuries they invaded us; in the nineteenth century we confiscated their navy, and in the twenty-first century they sent Nicklas Bendtner to lumber around our football fields and sulk like a moon-faced twelve year old girl. A giant moon-faced twelve year old girl. Now, however, they’ve gone too far. They’ve banned that quintessentially British spreadable yeast extract, Marmite from their country. The time to act is now and we need to ban something in return. We can’t ban bacon, because half of the 7 Reasons team will cry and we can’t ban Lego for exactly the same reason. The only thing left is Carlsberg.

2. Strength. The standard Carlsberg is an okay and quite drinkable lager (for a mass-manufactured one). Sadly, however, we don’t get that in the UK. We get an insipid watery thing brewed specially for us. It’s horrible and pointless. If you wanted to get drunk, you’d have to consume so much of it that your bladder would swell to the size of a small hatchback before you felt the teeniest bit light-headed. And that’s the moment that your small hatchback would probably be involved in an accident. With a boat.

3. Taste. The flavour of the UK Carlsberg lager is…well…in there somewhere. You can definitely tell that you’re drinking something that was once in the same country as some malt and some hops. Briefly. But going on an epic search to find the flavour in the beverage that you’re drinking is frustrating and pointless. And we already have a drink like it in the UK, it’s called water. It’s cheaper (unless you’re a family with a meter) and you don’t have to go out and buy it, it’s already there in your own home; in the taps. And it might already have been drunk by a celebrity like Elton John or Ryan Giggs, so it carries a greater celebrity cachet.

4. It Comes In A Green Tin. And I don’t like green tins. I just don’t. Never have, never will. I’m perfectly within my rights to dislike green tins and it’s not at all irrational. After all, we live in a country where it’s considered perfectly normal behaviour to dislike otherwise perfectly good people because of what vehicle they choose to commute in/on, what football team they support and the brand of shoe they choose to wear. So my hatred of green tins is far more rational than the cultural norm. Let’s get rid of the little green tins.

5. Because It’s Bad For You. Marmite was banned from Denmark because it contains additives: It’s unnaturally potent. But are the parks and playgrounds and municipal seating areas of Copenhagen littered with – often apparently lifeless – ruddy-faced and dishevelled men clutching half full* jars of Marmite in their limp, grimy hands? No. Those men are over in the UK, clutching cans of Carlsberg Special Brew**.    Because that too is unnaturally potent and unlike Marmite, which is good for you, it seems to be quite detrimental to the health.

6. Because They Keep The Good Stuff To Themselves. For Carlsberg make an amazing beer: a strong, rich, malty lager-beer with brilliant sharp hoppy notes. It’s called Elephant – named after one of the gates to their Copenhagen brewery – and can I get hold of it in the UK? Can I buggery. It would be easier to get hold of an actual elephant, and possibly more fun too. I could keep it in the garden and train it to stand on my next-door-neighbour’s car. If we banned Carlsberg, my frustrating and usually fruitless search for Elephant would come to an end.

7. Because Of The Adverts. Carlsberg’s advertising is brilliant. It’s high-budget, has consistently great production values and is usually very, very memorable.   But if we have to suffer every last epically dull and unoriginal bore mindlessly parroting, “Carlsberg don’t do *****(those asterisks are to suggest blankness, we’re not subject to a superinjunction)…but if they did….”, every time they see something they’re enthused by, because they believe it passes for original wit, that’s too high a price to pay for it. Let’s ban Carlsberg: We’d get revenge, lose crap beer, drink more water, rid ourselves of green tins, have healthier tramps and I’d be able to ride an elephant to the pub, where I wouldn’t be tempted to punch a dullard. You know it makes sense. Sort of.

*Or half empty, you decide.

**As manufactured by Chaka Khan.

May 25, 2011