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Marmite: You either love it or you hate it
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Published: December 2, 2009
WASHINGTON
I arrived late to the book party for Maggie Hall's new book about Marmite, an English condiment that is perhaps the foulest compound legally sold for human consumption. Late, but not late enough: There was still plenty of Marmite left.
Like Marmite, Maggie is English. Unlike Marmite, I like Maggie. A former reporter for Britain's Daily Mirror tabloid newspaper -- "horror, sex, scandal," is what she says she wrote about -- she's 68 and lives with her American husband, Gary Humfelt. Her book is titled The Mish-Mash Dictionary of Marmite: An Anecdotal A-Z of "Tar-in-a-Jar" (Revel Barker, $15).
How to describe Marmite, a foodstuff that, like warm beer and rainy summers, informs the English national identity? Imagine putting hundreds of anchovies in a blender, adding salt and axle grease, then pureeing until you have a black, gooey precipitate. That is Marmite.
That's how it tastes, anyway. What it IS is yeast extract. You might wonder why someone first thought to extract something edible from yeast. I know I did. Apparently when you brew beer, there's all this sludge left over. Using science, you can make Marmite out of it. Also Vegemite, which is the Australian version of Marmite name-checked by the band Men at Work.
This is all in Maggie's little book, its entries arranged alphabetically. Under "vitamins," you learn that Marmite is packed with thiamine, riboflavin, niacin and folic acid; under "fishing," that some anglers think it attracts catfish and carp; under "museum," that a Missouri man has a shrine to Marmite in his basement.
Marmite's manufacturer, Unilever, admits it's an acquired taste. The admirably honest slogan: "You either love it or hate it." Maggie loves it. "I've liked anchovies from the age of 18 months," she said, "so what can you say?"
The traditional way to consume Marmite is to butter a piece of toast and then spread a thin layer of the dark goo on it. A very thin layer.
That's what I tried to do, anyway. My toast carefully Marmited, I took a bite and immediately felt as if I'd been hit in the face by an ocean wave, a wave befouled by oil from a sinking tanker, oil that had caused a die-off of marine birds and invertebrates.
The refreshment table also had pumpkin bread. "That's the only good thing in here," counseled Gary. "There's no Marmite in it."
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