Paddington tours and the marmalade bandwagon

My oh my what have I done. Take a taste of marmalade, start a blog,and somehow end up jumping onto an odd breakfast bandwagon. Once again my moring web reads have given me sugary citrisy based food for thought. England is apperently not taking this whole loss of thier national spread laying down. Paddington himself is fighting the good fight and circulating the country promoting my most favorite of consumables. The now 50-something bear is waging war against fatty fast food breakfasts by eating toast in front of folks trying to ride the train.

So how am I going to do my part? Am I going to whip off my pants and force communuter to watch me snack? No. I'll probably just blog about it.

One small step...

It was a normal slow work morning. I was bouncing back and forth between sending emails and checking my normal sites when I stumbled on this article on The Guardian http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/wordofmouth/2011/jan/12/marmalade. I enjoyed its humor and eloquence, but there was something more that really struck me. There was passion. This Brit was serious. He truly felt that marmalade was in danger. More than that, it was worth saving. Hell, I had never ever eaten the stuff. I knew that Paddington bear ate it, hiding countless marmalade sandwiches in that flashed jacket of his but that was about it. I asked around to my coworkers, nothing. This breakfast commonality had somehow eluded us all. Was this spread really in danger? Doubtful, but still my interest was piqued.

Long story short, I was sold. That night I headed over to my grocery store (you know that one that has the good stuff but you don't really want to drive there because its prices kinda blow but you know they always have what you need). With 12 grain bread and Bonne Maman orange marmalade in hand I headed home. I fired up the toaster, cracked open the jar, and spread a bit of orangey rind-filled goo on my toast. I will never forget that first bite. It was like tiny angel babies had taken my dream and made explosive diarrhea all over it. It was like chewing old potpourri, bitter and chewy are all I remember. I was burned and disappointed.

Fast forward to the next night at TJ Maxx. I was looking over the scone mixes as per usual, and I saw it there. A pretty little jar with a brown paper cover. Why was I intrigued? Why did I care? I could still practically taste the nasty bits of my last marmalade venture, but the article was still running through my mind. Each jar its own personality. Each its own complex taste that needs to be experienced to understand. So off to my apartment came that cute little jar. Two more slices or toast, one last chance for the breakfast shared my James Bond and a pantsless bear.  I brace before taking a bit, but once I do I am sold. This jar is sweet. It's flavorful. It has a touch of citrus and a bitter undertone that finishes well.

There is something more to this unassuming little spread. An omnipresent breakfast item that no one seems to have tasted; well except for me. So this is where I stand now. Or more appropriately sit on my couch with 2 jars of marmalade sitting in front me, intriguing me. There is something to this tasty concoction and I aim to explore it. Nutella be damned, marmalade will live.