Sweet Nostalgia series 2022

After a rough year and facing the fast incoming of a milestone birthday heralding middle-age, I found myself in self-care mode and increasingly drawn to basking in the sweet sentimentality of nostalgia. This series of treats came about from unashamedly allowing myself to indulge in happy memories while mulling over the intoxicating effect of nostalgia, one of the best of emotions.  

Haribo Goldbären + Ritter Sport

When we were kids, mum and dad used to make trips back to Germany fairly regularly. The fun really started 5-6 weeks after returning home, when the much anticipated big, yellow ‘Deutsche Post’ parcels would arrive at the front door after their long sea journey to Australia. I would sit on the front steps eagerly waiting for the postie and I can’t even imagine the tedium my parents went through answering the 6-week equivalent of “are we there yet?”. After the parcel did finally arrive, the agony of having to wait for Papa to come home from work before we could open it all together, felt like torture.

The cornucopia of treats that flowed forth from those parcels was spectacular. Packed tightly and layered between pages of Bild Zeitung, all sorts of chocolates and sweets were revealed from the box one by one. Ritter Sport chocolate was coveted by us all and frantically claimed, doled out and later traded. Bottles of schnapps for the parents were cushioned by packets of Haribo Gummibärchen, a delicious as well as practical stuffing material.

Those unpackings were moments of pure joy. It’s not the same now that many of these treats are readily available to buy in Australia, the English packaging has no magic and I’m convinced that they taste different.

Golden Rough + Mint Pattie

When accompanying mum on the weekly grocery shop at Franklins, I would occasionally be rewarded for pushing the trolley without complaining, with a choice of a Mint Pattie or Golden Rough. The feeling of agony of deciding between the two, quickly while at the checkout, has stayed with me to the point that even now, as an adult, I momentarily forget that I can just buy both. 

Bubble O’Bill + Golden Gaytime

Always much more stylish than me in every way, my older sister’s go-to ice cream as a kid was the Golden Gaytime, when I was foolishly sucked in by the gimmicky, inferior-tasting Bubble O’Bill. After all, my foodie palette had been primed by the No Frills Neapolitan ice cream we would sometimes get for dessert at home (always with the strawberry left completely intact until the chocolate and vanilla were all scooped out.)

I have a memory of being very disappointed once to discover that the nose of my Bubble O’Bill was a Jaffa instead of a gumball. I’m not sure if I can trust this kid memory completely, nevertheless I still always think of the ol’ Jaffa switcheroo when I see these ice creams out in the wild today. Now as an adult, rather than feeling the anger of being duped by the inferior nose, I think about what the actual fuck went down at the ice cream factory. I imagine the staff panicking at the lack of gumball supply, I wonder about how many Bubble O’Bill’s were affected, the person who had the idea that Jaffas would do instead and whether the bosses ever found out.

Orchy Passio Nectar + Kirks Pasito

Back in the 80's when I was a kid, my dad worked at the old Orchy factory in Thornleigh. Our family learnt that products past their expiry date are perfectly safe and acceptable to consume, as dad brought home Orchy galore! I remember pallets of Orchy stacked high in our garage and nothing but Orchy every day in the lunchbox. I remember the 'Passio Nectar' most vividly, I think it was their bestseller.

Empty Orchy bottles were highly valued at that time as the preferred bong for stoners. Dad used to have to try convince those who would occasionally show up at the factory looking for bottles to "Just go buy a juice!". One day, dad was standing on the back veranda at home and saw smoke on the horizon, he joked that it was his dodgy workplace. Next day he found out that it was, the factory had caught on fire. We still had juice for months after.

During the era of the free supply, we were of course only allowed to drink Orchy, when all I wanted was to drink Schweppes Passiona like the cool kids. Today Passiona is discontinued, and Kirks Pasito is as close as it comes to fulfilling that sweet, sweet nostalgic carbonated passionfruit nectar craving. These days, I can’t help but do a silent cheers to Orchy when I drink a Kirks Pasito.

Twisties + Cherry Ripe

For young Aussies, the rite of passage that is venturing to live overseas for a stint, is a good one. I too found my way on the well-worn trail to the UK and did my time sleeping on couches and pouring beers for pounds. The bittersweet feeling of homesickness for sunshine and Aussie summers is real and can be found in a foil wrapper, in the form of a Cherry Ripe or a packet of Tim Tams. For broke-as expats, care packages from home are as popular as a packet of Twisties in a Clapham share house.