Grab one of these and mooch on back to The Towers

They say if you can remember the sixties, you weren't really there. I was there, albeit at a rather tender age, and my problem has always been not so much trying to remember the sixties as trying deperately to forget. For some, the sixties conjours up memories of The Beatles, psychedelia, flower power and sheer unadulterated hedonism. For me, the sixties will always be Philadelphia Cheese. Along with the various other revolutions in music and attitudes going on at the time, there was also a revolution in food. Where before we had had boiled beef and carrots, or pig's feet and onions, suddenly the era of Italian bistros with red-chequered table cloths and candles stuck in raffia-covered Chianti bottles was upon us! Elizabeth David! Boef a la mode! Prawn Cocktail! Black Forest Gateau! Philadelphia Cheese. Bleauuuuuuuuuuugh! It was, in retrospect, a fitting metaphor for the incoming convenience food boom. Where before "cheese" had meant a huge hunk of crumbly, yellow/gold cheddar complete with gnarled and flaky rind, "Philly" was presented to us in antiseptic little foil packs, and, in line with sixties foodie thinking on "presentation" was served up in a variety of fiddly guises - like this: Warning! Warning! Do not attempt this at home! Philadelphia Stuffed Dates: One packet of "Eat Me" dates, stones removed (on no account attempt to use generic, non-brand name product!) One packet of "Philadelphia" cream cheese Cocktail sticks ("Deeko") One grapefruit or orange ("Jaffa") halved, and wrapped in tinfoil ("Bacofoil") Stuff each date with about a half a teaspoon of the cheese. Spear the thing with a cocktail stick, then stick your stick into the foil-covered citrus fruit. You may also add such other delicacies-on-sticks as chipolata sausages (mechanically reclaimed meat slurry-style - yummy) and cubes of cheddar cheese (as long as it came from a properly branded pack like "St Ivel") and tinned pineapple ("Del Monte") You are now ready to invite your friends round for a cocktail party, but since all the Chianti was drunk in Italy before the bottles ever got to those Bistros, I'm afraid you'll just have to make do with Blue Nun. Bad luck! Additional Caveat: Recent adverts on UK telly have sought to convince us that Philadelphia cheese is hip, trendy and "..lovely!" It isn't. It's as horrid as it ever was, as is Blue Nun, which was recently "relaunched" Discerning readers of COTM will avoid both these products like their very lives depended on it!* * they do! If I find out that any of you have been caught in possession, there'll be trouble, mark my words!