Marmite. A product so known for having a love it or hate it flavor, the company has it written on their website.
I’ve never been more nervous to try something.
I once had dinner at a tiny Chinese restaurant, let’s assume it was called The China Wall, since most of them are, in a strip mall between Lancaster and Mountville, Pennsylvania. It’s not there anymore, I checked. They had a little buffet where I had my first encounter with egg drop soup. I wasn’t quite as adventurous with food back then but eggs and broth didn’t seem like a gigantic leap out of my comfort zone.
That egg drop soup is the only food I have ever tried that I could not convince my throat to swallow. I actually had to go to the bathroom to spit it out. Somehow I managed to consume a vomit flavored Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean, which was disturbingly realistic, but my body would not allow me to injest the soup.
After that experience, I was understandably hesitant to try egg drop soup again. However, I’ve learned, because my family is chockablock with terrible cooks who are extremely fond of canned foods (asparagus, peas, potatoes, etc.), that you can’t always depend on one tasting. Canned asparagus is like salty asparagus flavored baby food, molded to look like wilted asparagus stalks. Fresh asparagus is delicious. If I hadn’t given the vegetable another try, it wouldn’t be a regular staple in my diet today. In fact, if I had formed my final opinion after the first taste of anything I’ve had, I’d probably be eating nothing but funnel cakes, whoopie pies, raw carrots, and sweet bologna.
So, years later, I braved another tasting of egg drop soup and it was extremely okay. I’m still not a huge fan but, when it’s not prepared with millennium eggs, it’s much more tolerable. Not even that second attempt, after having to spit out the previous, made me as nervous as Marmite.
I’ve read reviews that have referred to it as fishy, some that have likened it to a moistened beef ramen seasoning packet, and others who have called it “salted tar.” It’s no wonder I’m nervous. But, I am determined to give it a go.
I’ll let you know which side we’re on.
Update: I made some toast, spread the thinnest layer of Marmite I possibly could, spread cream cheese on top of that, added some halved cherry tomatoes, and topped those with freshly ground black pepper. It was delicious, but I couldn’t taste the Marmite at all. So, I made more toast, spread the Marmite just a touch thicker, added some cream cheese, and opted to leave the tomatoes off because I had already thrown the little cutting board into the sink where it will swell from water and proceed to break apart. Gross. Absolutely disgusting. There was definitely a yeasty flavor and salt is less salty than Marmite. The verdict seems to be, it’s delicious if you can’t taste it. When it’s there to lend a savory quality but you’re unable to identify where that savoriness is coming from, it’s fantastic.If you have a choice between Marmite you can taste and one of those BeanBoozled jelly beans flavored like rotten egg? Choose the Marmite. Those things are awful. But in any other situation, go with the not Marmite option.
by Jamside Up