The internet continues to vex me. After having a simple but delicious slice of hot, buttery toast and marmalade that my sister-in-law made using Ma Made Marmalade, I had to Google search “marmalade” because suddenly I needed to know EVERYTHING about marmalade.
This makes a delicious marmalade, without the horror of watching your hands turn white with citric acid burns from peeling and cutting your own oranges. All you need to do is add sugar and water. It also needs time and jars, which this Much More with Less blogger writes about quite hilariously in her post How to Make Cheat’s Marmalade.
The Ma Made tin reminded me of the marmalade my Mom used to buy back in the 1970’s when jam came in tins instead of glass jars. Unlike the Hartley’s shown above, it came in completed marmalade form. It was either Shirriff’s Good Morning or Woodward’s brand. Perhaps both. Then I needed to know everything about Woodward’s, and its Food Floor.
I’m sure that image brings back a lot of memories to the People of the 1960’s, 70’s, and 80’s. It sure did to me.
I doubt a single tinned Woodward’s pea or cream style corn kernel ever crossed my lips, but this is one of the few images I could find with a Woodward’s label:
And now, I have the Woodward’s $1.49 jingle going through my head, where it will be firmly implanted until this time tomorrow morning.
Then the memories come pouring in and Google can’t provide the images I’m looking for:
Conveyor belt grocery delivery: I fool you not children of today, back in my childhood I was mesmerized at the grocery checkout. Mom would purchase her groceries (by cheque) and the groceries were put in boxes and then placed on rollers and whisked down and under the checkout counter to a system of conveyor belts that went into the bowels of the earth and by MAGIC, ended up in a small building in the middle of the parking lot. The groceries were loaded up in our golden brown Ford Country Squire station wagon and taken home in brown paper bags.
(Interjection: As Michael helps me proof read this article, he reminds me that he and I both had childhood fantasies of riding the grocery conveyor system. Truth. He also added there were grease pencils to write the customer’s name on the bags).
And speaking of conveyor belts,
Woodward’s Doughnut Making Machine: If I became bored of watching Mom pay for groceries (or more than likely Mom trying to distract me from escaping down the grocery conveyor) and especially if Dad was with us, he’d take me to watch doughnuts getting made right in front of our eyes on a doughnut making conveyor. Not unlike the mini doughnut makers you can find at festivals, but this one ICED THEM too. They were so pretty, warm, and delicious.
Woodward’s Cafe: As young teens we’d order Coke’s, crinkle cut fries and grilled cheese sandwiches feeling very grown-up.
Candy Counter: My memory here might be confusing this with Simpson’s Sears. I remember the crystal clear glass looking in at bins of Bridge Mixture, Macaroons, Chicken Bones, Licorice All Sorts, Cinnamon Hearts, Rose Buds, French Burnt peanuts, Boston Baked Beans, chocolate covered peanuts and raisins. You’d place your order, and the person behind the counter would carefully weigh your request, and pour it into a white paper bag.
Wait? What? Chicken bones at a candy counter? As I patronizingly pat you on the head, Chicken Bones my dear are a candy. They look like this:
The CBC has done a great story on them, which you can read at your leisure.
My synapses are reaching their end of digging out memories from my brain. The last thing is memories of my Mom getting a job at Woodward’s. She was very proud of this and looked sharp in her regulation dress code clothes (navy skirt, white blouse, navy blazer, nude hosiery, leather pumps). She worked at the stationery counter selling Cross pens. The only time I remember her complaining was on $1.49 day when she’d come home declaring Woodward’s was a mad house. She and Dad would relax in the living room with their CC and ginger ales and talk about the day they both had.
There you have it. From marmalade to memories of Woodward’s. Hope this shook a few memories loose for you too.
2 Comments Add yours
Thanks for the memories. Dad and I always went to the Woodwards Food Floor every Saturday for a chocolate malt and then afterwaeds hit the candy bar for 50 cents worth of Smarties (which was a lot back then) in their little white paper bags. The only malt now a days that tastes like Woodwards is Wendy’s.