A toast to a good spread

At last. Some exciting news from food fundis. No, no new diets to implode chunks of lard in the arteries allowing the blood a free ride. These abound in books that’ve made their authors millionaires. Just the thought gives me heartburn.

This new discovery pleases me because it’s close to home, the product is at hand, and for a poor hack, cheap. It not only stimulates, but keeps the cerebrum youthful.

And my mom spread it on sarmies for school – the envy of my fellows who choked on peanut butter and jam.

When I espied the name in a health magazine I could see it in my mind’s eye, even smelling and tasting it. At first I thought it was an advertisement, until I read the copy under the illustration of the familiar container. My beloved Marmite. Yes, believe it or not, the yeast induced spread is brain feed, or fuel.

Scientists have labelled it the latest “superfood” because of its nutritional value.

Evidently, Marmite contains yeast extract, salt, vegetable extract, spices, and vitamins (B1, B2, B3, B9, B12). “Marmite is gluten free, high in vitamins, vegetarian and low in calories, providing nearly 50% of the recommended daily allowance for folic acid per serving”.

All these good things make the brain a very active place. It makes you cleverer. And throughout my life I always thought I was stupid, failing maths, and making on-going, dumb, life-changing decisions. I was raised on Marmite – therefore a potential Mensa boy.

“So”, asks my Heidi cruelly, “Where did it all go wrong?” Realising it was a low blow, she quickly follows up with, “maybe you didn’t have enough of it?”.

She’s so right. Instead of having it spread thinly on toast, I should’ve downed spoonfuls three times a day. Like I did with condensed milk. See, I was never the sharpest pencil in school. In the corporate world, too, I never saw the poisoned darts aimed at me – until it was too late.

Ag, not to worry, Marmite remains my favourite spread. And its smell keeps mosquitoes away and combats morning sickness (the latter I’ve yet to experience).

If only the Colonel had churned out chicken wings marinated in Marmite, our parliamentarians would’ve been less stupid than me. And slimmer.