Life Less Literary

Mmmm… just polished off a kilo pot of Halva. OK, not all in one go, but close enough (when I was at university, and vegan, every lunchtime I would go to the Fry Haldane health food shop in the Student Union’s and buy a huge bag (about half a kilo) of bombay mix and a similarly huge lump (maybe 250g) of halva. That was my lunch (I’m sure I must’ve drunk a lot to wash it down as well - you’d have to, wouldn’t you?)

But the weekend’s Observer Food Monthly special on Nigel Slater’s autobiography got me thinking more closely about my relationship with Halva. It is one of the earliest foods I remember, and one of the greatest treats, although like many such early treats when I rediscovered it after many years away it didn’t seem quite so magical as before. Whenever I saw my grandma from my earliest memories or earlier she would bring me and my sister the same treats - crystallised rose and violet petals, pine nuts, and halva. Pine nuts were also, on rediscovery, quite lovely but rather cloying to eat more than four or five in one session. The crystallised flowers I haven’t yet re-discovered - probably be a disappointment when I do, but I’m very tempted to try tracking them down.