Wee Scoops

Measure for Measure

Ravioli Craving #heinz

I avoided ‘refined sugar’ for a year, give or take the odd lapse, and decided to extend it to avoiding ‘processed meat’ a few months ago.

Today, the whole thing crashed a bit. I had a craving for Heinz Ravioli.

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The ‘refined sugar’ thing failed when my time-hop app told me I was in Amsterdam a year ago. I looked through my Amsterdam stuff and came across some Dutch biscuits that went out of date last month. So I set about eating them forthwith, to save them from going any out of dater… I mean… they are out of date… I can’t serve them to anyone else…IMG_6964

The weather was so cold and wet for the first day of summer. I was going to go out and buy a tin of Heinz Ravioli at lunchtime but sadly I found some leftover food in the fridge so had to hold out until dinner.

Unfortunately, the shop only had the big cans, not the individual portion I was hoping for. I felt duty bound to offer the children some at tea time, hoping against hope that they didn’t want any. I only had to sacrifice two ravioli – and got one of them back – half-eaten, cold and sooked white.

The ravioli didn’t disappoint. Glistening orange sauce warming the peely wally pasta postage stamps, each one not only containing some very … processed … “meat” but a lifetime of ravioli based memories: the ENOrmous oval plate of ravioli served to me at the Green Park Hotel in London in the late 1970s – couldn’t believe my luck; the subsequent disappointment of FOUR raviolis on the plate at primary school dinners, alongside some very suspect chips… and many moments on the ravioli spectrum in between.

It wasn’t quite right though. They seem to have messed with the recipe a bit since I last ate it. It even claims that it is one of your five-a-day as there is apparently actually tomatoes in it. Who knew? It did actually taste as if there was tomato in it.

I still have six Dutch cookies left. Better go and eat them.

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3 thoughts on “Ravioli Craving #heinz

  1. Nothing seems to beat nostalgia except for when someone tinkers with the recipe. My father used to love telling my sister and I how our uncle, his younger brother, used to sneak eating ravioli out of the can in their bedroom under the covers despite the fact that my father would promise to beat him up if he ever ate them in their bedroom. My uncle loved them so much he would tempt fate and the beating just to have his ravioli. lol

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