I am a closet jam fan.
Last night we called in for cream crackers and a jar of jam as I had a sudden stomach bug. The idea was to have sourdough toast with jam for breakfast today, and not eggs. The cream crackers were for me to snack on.
I had a couple of cream crackers with jam last night to get over the salty khichuri Banu made for dinner. Then another couple. And another. And another… you get the gist.
I called for a fresh sourdough loaf this morning, paired toast and jam with an espresso. It was a beautiful start to the day. The jar was half empty by the time I put it back.
Now you know why I say I am a closet jam fan!
My first memories of jam are from when I was 8. Mum would make me jam and cheese sandwiches in Kolkata the way she did when we were in the UK. The jams that one got were stodgy. Spreading them on bread was an effort. The flavours were synthetic. Yet we could not have enough of them!
My grandma made guava jelly. I did not take to the flavour. I am a strawberry fan forever.
The PG I lived in when I moved to Mumbai was a vegetarian one. There were samosa, idli, poha & medu vada for breakfast. I was used to eggs and toast. My PG aunty bought a bottle of jam exclusively for me and I was back to the jam sandwich breakfasts of my childhood.
Then imported French made jams made an appearance in local stores. These opened up a whole new world. They had an ‘inner thigh wobble-like’ texture, a phrase famously used by Nigella Lawson once … with soft, cuddly, sugary pieces of fruit strewn across. I was in love. These were far more expensive than regular jams in the market. Our affair reached a tragic end. Blood sugar related worries meant that I had to stay away from jams. I even missed out on the new age Indian artisanal jam movement.
I gave in to the joys of jam, scone & clotted high tea at the Jane Austen Centre during our recent holiday at Bath, but then who would not?!
Do you know who else was a closet jam fan? Queen Elizabeth 2. She told Paddington Bear that she always carried an orange marmalade sandwich in her handbag.
Are you team jam as well? Tell me your jam story.
PS: I don’t like marmalade. It’s too ‘grown up’ for me. Not sweet enough!
