Cheese Twists

2015-01-01 11.12.11

I picked up a loaf of bread and stood in line waiting to pay. On the counter to my right were all the croissants and cakes and slightly strange combinations like green curry pie which we get in Bangkok. There were plastic trays, tongs and rolls of paper at the far end. And, I noticed, among all the reduced bread, what looked like a few packets of cheese twists. I walked over to them and picked up a packet. It was priced at 50 baht. I put them back and joined the line again which was now a few people deeper.

Cheese twists. A variation of the cheese straws that mum used to buy from the bakery in town. Cheese straws were flaky and greasy and cheesy and soft. They were a bit messy. Pastry crumbs and grease marks were left in the paper bag, on our fingers, around our lips. (The ones we tried to replicate at home were never quite the same. Always slightly too burnt, or crunchy, or not cheesy enough.)

Cheese twists though. These were the grown up version. They were crunchy and less likely to leave a mess. They were a bit posh. At Christmas, for our birthdays or Burns night, we would go over to Grandma and Granfer’s, only a few minutes away. Out would come the cheese twists, probably bought from Waitrose. Several wine glasses would be filled at least half full with sherry, as was Granfer’s measure. Elderflower cordial possibly for us two teens. Maybe a gin and tonic or two for Grandma. And then plenty of wine with the meal. I don’t really remember the details of conversations had around the table, but I do remember the laughter, smiles and shining eyes. Also Grandma’s loud burps.

After the meal there would be biscuits from the biscuit tin, a slightly rusty round box with blue patterns on it. It contained all the treats, more than at home. Tunnocks, Rocky bars and the occasional Penguin laid on a sheet of kitchen roll. Tea for Granfer and mum, coffee for Grandma and Dad.

On one evening there was supposed to be a meteor shower, and so after eating and drinking we all went out to the front of the house to look up into the sky. Grandma and Granfer’s house was an end of terrace, and on the corner of a small crescent a little way off of the main road, so it was quiet. Only the occasional car drove past. There were a few lights from windows and street lamps. Unfortunately one of these streetlamps was right in the way of our view, and it made it difficult to see any glimmers in the sky. Slightly drunkenly, Grandma and Granfer tried to block out the light by each covering one eye with a hand. I don’t know why they thought using one eye would help… in any case it’s possible we woke up the houses around us with all the giggling.

I miss them.

I put my bread down in front of the cashier. I dashed back around to the end of the line and grasped the cheese twists and handed them to the cashier. On second thoughts…

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