Anatomy of a Jaffa Cake

It's now officially one month until I undertake what will surely be one of the most epic journeys since the last time Michael Palin went somewhere.  Yup, I get to walk in the footsteps of my younger Overseas-Experiencing-self when I head back the the UK in September.  This poses some interesting questions.  Will my old haunts still look the same?  Or will they still look the same to me?  Will old Dave still be doing the Telegraph cryptic crossword in the corner on a Sunday night at the Beehive?  And will he let me offer "helpful" suggestions?  In short, will it be the same...at all?

Well, if old Dave is still with us I will be absolutely gobsmacked.  He wasn't the most youthful looking chap when I last saw him 12 years ago.  Although, there is a distinct possibility that he's one of those people who has looked ancient from a very young age and so amazes everyone with their longevity.  This remains to be seen, of course.  And I already know that one of the pubs I used to work in is (shock!) painted a different colour (thank you Google maps) so likely there are innumerable other changes that I will have to get my head around.  But one thing I know for a fact has not changed.  Jaffa Cakes are exactly the same as I remember them.

Now, you probably have no idea what a "Jaffa Cake" is.  As unlikely as it sounds, it has absolutely nothing to do with Auckland (I know I should care a little about the super-city mayoral race but honestly? Completely uninterested.  Would rather watch Everybody Loves Raymond than listen to speculation on which of the mayoral candidates will be the victor, and Everybody Loves Raymond generally sets me pacing and swearing like a unhinged crazy cat-lady so that's really saying something).  What Jaffa Cakes are is a highly addictive, totally scrummy treat of British origin.

Last night I acquired a packet of these delicious, chocolatey snacks (we won't go into how, but let's just say that it may have involved coercion/emotional blackmail/heavy-handed hinting) that I haven't had for nearly 10 years.  Would they taste the same as the first time? 

The first time occurred in a pub in Marylebone in 1998.  It was summer. I was working as a cook and we were pretty much allowed to help ourselves to anything in the pantry.  On the hunt for something for afternoon tea, I happened upon a blue packet of biscuity-looking things. 

I'm not sure how many I consumed that first week.  It could easily have been 20 or more.  I went completely mental on them but they are so easy to eat. 

Let me break it down for you.  From above they just look like any other run of the mill round, chocolate biscuit but then you notice that the bottom isn't actually biscuit.  It's actually something between a spongy cake and a biscuit.  So far, so delicious, but then you bite into it and hit an ingot of yummy orange-flavoured jelly-like goodness.  Because of the light, spongy nature of the base you could almost, if you so chose, inhale them.  You can fit a whole one in your mouth and just nosh out.  Man, it was beautiful.

And they haven't changed.  They're still awesome.  And I can still eat three in less than a minute.  So many other things may have lost their magic but Jaffa Cakes are eternal, unchanged.  Like the lions in Trafalgar Square, or the unreliability of the British Rail system.  And I am pleased with this*. I believe it bodes well.

Have you ever returned somewhere after a long time away and found things changed in unexpected ways. Childhood haunts that seem smaller.  University watering-holes that seem less...er, glamorous than once imagined?

*I am also pleased to have been able to do another blog post title with an "m" in it.  To start with it was unintentional but when I got to yesterday, I realise I wanted to go for the clean sweep this week.

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