Say Cheese

Been a funny old day so it has.

Haven't ventured from the door, so managed to avoid all that nastiness going on outdoors. Through all the miserableness I got to reminiscing about cheese rolls. As you do.

Back in the mid-late seventies, we were visiting the Royal Highland Show with our Edinburgh relatives and, other than some vague recollection of gigantic coos and pigs and playing around on some shiny tractors, the most vivid memory I have involved a cheese roll. Our Uncle Tommy had queued at one of the catering vans to buy himself one and I can remember clearly him coming back over to us with the top of the roll flipped up and showing us the thinnest sliver of orange cheese stuck to the bread with a scraping of finest Stork SB margarine. He wasn't amused at all at that, especially as it had set him back a whole 50p (think my pocket money for the week was only 30p then, so that was off the scale), so he stormed straight back to the front of the queue and, despite the offer to add more cheese, he had them give him his money back.

I just remember, in my formative years as I was, being impressed that even though everyone knows these big events are mostly a rip-off when it comes to the food that's on offer, he stood up for his right to a fair share of his dairy product and refused to be taken for a ride.

Pretty sure that stuck with me and, as most people that know me would agree, I'm very much of that same ilk when it come to not getting ripped off. Cheese or otherwise.

Anyhow, all this self indulgence and cheese roll making is just a round about way of me marking the passing of our Uncle yesterday afternoon. Save us a big slice Uncle T, and don't scrimp on the Lurpak either. X