I'm only five inches above the average height for a British woman, and of my siblings I am the shortest, but I seem to get called tall a lot. I always say it's because I'm a Marmite addict and it used to be known as the growing up spread you never grow out of.
Blogged recounts their favourite method of eating the stuff. Bizarrely, blogged favours cold toast. Whereas a couple of slices of wholemead bread freshly toasted, still hot enough to make you drop it, thinly spread with olive oil margerine and then thickly coated with Marmite is my prefered quick fix. I love the way it half melts, half soaks into the hot bread. Variations include it with a strong cheddar cheese in either a white three seed bread sarnie or a hot cinammon and raisin bagel. And an extra layer of quorn chicken slices doesn't go amiss, to provide a cool moist counter sensation.
Moosifer was particularly taken with Marmite, but his favourite way of eating it was to lick it off my finger or, if I wasn't fast enough to hold it out of reach, from my toast.
Sometimes I suspect he was a slightly strange cat.
(I've only ever found this loaf - which has poppy, sunflower and some other, yet to be indentified by me, seed in it - in my local bakery so people will just have to trust me that it's very nice)