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marzistarz2002 · 1 year

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My life's escapade with Weetabix

So, all my life I have always loved Weetabix, and that's been my thing. Like how you have a childhood nickname that only your family members call you on very special occasion... that's me and Weetabix... its special. It's always been in my house, I've always eaten it, and importantly, I can remember all of it. When I ate it, how I ate it, why I ate it, where I ate it. So I decided to try documenting some core memories about my life when Weetabix has been in it.

This blog post will contain 7 main sections describing some of the memories I have with Weetabix, accompanied with a themed ranking with absolutely no explanation to my reasonings.

The First Time

Now, I don't actually remember the first ever time in my life where I ate Weetabix because I was probably a baby... but I do have a very vague early memory so I shall call that the first time. It was night time, supper time even. The diamond multicolour table cloth was covering the kitchen table, the smell of the plastic filing the air around me. A bowl of Weetabix was placed in front of me. Cold milk, raisins, and one Weetabix, waiting to be tiredly eaten. That little snippet of my childhood can't be dated, or refined in any way. All I know was that bowl of cereal was the nicest thing I'd eaten all day and I went to bed with a full stomach, happy.

Minatare? and chocolaty!?

This particular time holds a very special place in my heart... the first time I had mini chocolate Weetabix. I can't remember exactly where but I was in a campsite with my family and their friends. Their tent was green, our tent was blue. Us kids had just gotten into the rec. centre and messed about on the pool tables the night before. As an experience camper I knew the best way to eat cereal in the morning... curled up on one of our blue camping chairs right in front of the door... and if they were taken, on the floor inside the tent with the bowl on top of my knees. The bowl was a rich dark blue colour the cereal was beige with tiny bits of chocolate floating in the milk, it rested perfectly in my lap as I sat on the chair. Excited, I took my first bite when I heard the worst kind of sound that can come from any Weetabix... a crunch. How rude they are for making such a heavenly cereal so crunchy! But I kept going, intrigued by the chocolate and the size, as I went on crunching away, my prayers had been answered as the milk started disappearing and the Weetabix turned into mush... finally the ideal texture but 10 times better as there was chocolate... and I love chocolate. That experience, I'd say, was one of the most adventurous times I've eaten Weetabix.

The best kind

Plain Weetabix (includes branded and Tesco's own brand)

Banana flavoured Weetabix

Oatabix

Fruit and nut Weetabix mini's

Chocolate Weetabix mini's

Weetabix on the Go

The worst time

In recent years I have become someone who drinks oat milk, but in my youth I was strictly a green or at a stretch, a blue milk drinker. And sometimes I would steal my mums soya milk for a change up or if there wasn't any milk left. Now for this memory, milk is obviously the main topic. I have, at the time of this memory, drank only cow's milk and soya milk with my favourite cereal. However, one night before Harp lessons, I going to eat some Weetabix. I opened the fridge to acquire the milk... none. I call my parents to tell them there isn't any milk left... asking for my mum's soya milk was at the tip of my tongue. All of a sudden I am being told to eat this bowl Weetabix drowned in almond milk. never have I ever had almond milk, I hated the idea of drinking that, I hated almonds. But I was hungry, and that was the only solution my parents had. I fought it, I complained, I cried the entire time. From the second the first spoon full touched my lips, up until I couldn't stand it anymore. I was being forced, in the eyes of pubescent me, to eat this vile excuse for milk... this liquid that tainted the pure loveliness of Weetabix. Her bland flavour absorbed this liquid, quickly turning into an offensive mush in my bowl. The anger, the sadness, the frustration! All I wanted was to feel joy, to feel the heavenly, milky sludge that is a bowl of Weetabix. But that didn't happen and I had to live with myself for making the decision to ask for help, for not just taking the soya milk. I had to live with the fact that I had just eaten the worst bowl of Weetabix ever.

Ranking milks

Manx Green cow's milk

Oat milk

Cow's milk

Soya milk

Three at once?

As you might have gathered by now, I like my Weetabix a certain way. Throughout this collection of memories, I haven't mentioned the quantity of Weetabix that is desired. This is simply for the sole reason of this memory. All my life I was orderly, I followed the rules, I kept to the routine, I only ever ate one or two pillows at a time. One if I wasn't particularly hungry, or I was a small child, and two because it was the perfect amount to have after school or just before bed. Anyway, this story starts in on a little island called The Isle of Man, situated in the Irish sea, between my home country of Ireland and the countries of Great Britain. In a little house on the southern end of the island I was coming down the stairs from my cousins room, into her kitchen. We had just had a sleepover after the most diabolical day of my life. (I won't get into it as it adds absolutely nothing to the context of this blog) My aunt was there preparing breakfast, I get handed a very deep plastic bowl and to my surprise there was not one, not two, but three Weetabix pillows inside. I had never seen such a sight. Three...!? Three requires triple the milk, and so I filled that big bowl with the beautiful Manx milk. Sitting at the dining room table, the cold brown leather on my legs matched the cold milk in that transparent bowl. I crush the pillows to make my desired texture, I lift my spoon thats filled with the comfort I will forever seek, and I ate three Weetabix for the first time in my life.

The best bowls

Regular bowl that is suitably deep

A mug

That one fairy princess bowl in my Grandparents

Small blue camping bowl

Shallow soup bowl

… Liquid

Mornings. The bane of my existence throughout my school career. My bus picked me up at the bus stop at 8:15 every morning during secondary school. The first to arrive, and the last to leave I spent a significant amount of time waiting at school because of that bus. But mornings were always far worse that afternoons. I would set my alarm for a reasonable time but did I get up? of course not! I went back to sleep. I almost always jumped out of bed around 7:45 realising that I was going to be late, hurried to get dressed, and ran out the door, up to the bus stop. Not once during the mornings did I have time to eat... breaktime was my breakfast. That all changed one evening as I was helping my mum with the food shop. Turning the into the next isle, a familiar logo caught my eye, a logo I had seen often in my life. The words 'Weetabix' sprawled down a curved blue bottle, 'on the go' just below. All of a sudden it clicked, the best problem solving I have ever done. I don't have to skip breakfast just because I have horrible time management skills (undiagnosed and unknown adhd) . I proposed this idea to my mother, who wholeheartedly agreed. The next morning, I carried on with my unorganised routine, but before I left the door, I grabbed that special blue bottle. After running to my stop, I had some time to spare so I cracked open the bottle and started to drink. It was a strange texture... something I'd definitely have to get used to. But as I sat there, waiting for my bus, looking over the fields, down to the sea. The cows grazing behind me. I had, for the first time in ages, breakfast.

Stale...

Fun fact, Weetabix can go out of date. I learned that the hard way. This was another interesting holiday in the IOM, and bless my grandparents they are so sweet, but they kinda don't know how to chuck out food. I was visiting with my mum and sister during my holidays and stayed in my grandparents spare room. Which meant that breakfast was out of my control. It was the first morning my grandad put out some Weetabix because he knows how much I love it. Overjoyed, I made myself a bowl. Two pillows drowned in milk. But this was no ordinary bowl... this Weetabix had been open for so long that the milk took so long to absorb. It tasted like carboard, with the texture of cardboard... I didn't want to disappoint so I continued chewing away. Weetabix shouldn't be chewy. I couldn't bring myself o look at the date on the box. I had committed to the decision to finish the bowl. Never again did I have that Weetabix during that trip, toast and juice that was slightly the wrong colour got me through. What a learning experience that holiday was... and what I took away from that ordeal was to not eat out of date spaghetti hoops or I will throw up days later in front of an aeroplane.

My ideal Weetabix

This entire ting has led up to this moment. The moment where I reveal the most perfect way to eat Weetabix! I return to this way time and time again, and Weetabix is never as good when it isn't ate this way. So, the perfect bowl of Weetabix consists of: 2 Weetabix pillows in a decently sized bowl, oat milk, and raisins (or lele's as I call them). It's as simple as that.

Ranking different toppings

Raisins/saltanas

Bananas and honey

Grapes and apple bits

Nutella

Sugar

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