I became obsessed with marshmallows after seeing Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, 1972 (with Michael Crawford - of Phantom fame - playing the White Rabbit). There’s a scene where Alice finds a pink sweet which says ‘Eat me’ on it. Watching that scene again as an adult, I find the sweet scarily garish and something I would never eat, but back then it was the most delicious looking thing ever and in my child’s mind akin to a soft, yummy marshmallow which had to be devoured. And so began the period of my eyes lighting up over Flumps and any other super soft, squishy marshmallow I could get my little hands on.

Marshmallows were a thing of beauty to behold and I used all my senses to explore them. I held them gently in my hand feeling their smoothness and stroked them across my lips before biting into their soft centre. I let them melt in my mouth. My eyes swam in their colours (yellow body with a pink swirl - my fav). They were tactile - I could squish them with my thumb and finger into a gooey ball to play with. They smelt of sweet rainbow fluff. I tested how many I could fit into my mouth at a time (too many to remember exact figures). Like all children, I dissected and tested (I did this with KitKats, Marsbars, anything that could be taken apart).

These days, knowing what’s in them (beef gelatine and sugar) my relationship with marshmallows is over. But those delightful moments as a child, where I could go into realms of magic and wonder over a Flump, will stay with me forever.