Quotes About Marmite

When the earthquake hit Christchurch in 2011, the factory that produces Marmite was closed for two years. The supermarket shelves were empty and people were selling jars for hundreds of dollars on eBay. It was absolute meltdown; we called it 'Marmageddon.'

Buckwheat, like Marmite and durian, is a seriously divisive foodstuff, so it needs a seriously capable defence team if it's ever going to make it on to most people's dinner tables.

Like its breakfast companion Marmite, jam seems to divide the crowds. In many of its mass-produced guises, it seems barely acquainted with the fruit named on the jar, tasting mostly of sugar.

Marmite - like that other little black-jar job, Bovril - is so much a Mark 1 staple-of-Empire brand, so much part of the Edwardian world of enamel advertising signs, the history of grin-and-bear-it industrial food.

Mixed reactions? Sure, I get them all the time. I'm a Marmite artist.

Some people put Marmite on all sorts of dishes - I don't mind dropping a teaspoon into a pot of stew - but it's something I like to eat at home, on the sofa. I have to stick the jar right at the back of the cupboard or I'll eat six slices of toast in one go.

Marmite is my little English touch, and I'm crazy for chutneys.

In England, we have this saying about Marmite: people either love it or hate it. That's like a lot of the movie work I've done. People either find it repulsive or find it really interesting and get engaged in it.

Honestly, there always has to be a jar of Marmite in the cupboard. And a bag of Fruit Gums. That's living with a British man for me.

There was always Marmite in our house. Don't mess with the Kiwis and their Marmite; it's serious stuff.

London is my home. I miss my family so much; it's hard being away. And I miss salt and vinegar crisps. And Marmite. And good fudge. Oh my God. Clotted cream fudge.