My Most Memorable Meal: Me, Sarah

For some time now I’ve been thinking about writing a series of posts chronicling memorable meals.  I’d like to plough on with it so I thought that probably the best person to track down and get the ball rolling would be myself.

I don’t need to tell you how much food means to me but when I think of memorable meals it’s strangely  not the mind-blowing gastronomic affairs that spring first to my mind, it’s the occasion and the circumstance that makes something memorable for me.  The company, the conversation, the turn of events that have aligned to make this moment in time something that stays with you forever.

So, without a doubt my most memorable meal is tea and toast at Edinburgh Royal Infirmary just shy of five years ago.  A cup filled with sugary tea – I don’t take sugar, the cheapest sliced white bread toasted and buttered while hot – I like my toast cold.  It made not the slightest bit of difference as I’d just given birth.  My baby girl was probably about 15 minutes old and lying happily in my shaky arms.  A lady in an NHS uniform quietly wheeled a trolley in and without a word, but with a smile, handed me a cuppa and a plate of toast.  I hadn’t realised how starving I was and nothing was more suitable or needed and wanted right there and then than sugary tea and hot buttered toast.  My own mother couldn’t have got it more right.

Nigel Slater said that it’s ‘impossible not to love someone who makes toast for you.’  He’s right of course.  


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