Literary Beverages Part One

Doppelgänger shreddies and plums

Some of you may already know that when I was little I thought that chamomile tea must be a sweet-tasting miracle drink, more delicious than horlicks, or ovaltine (back when ovaltine was still delicious), or hot milk and honey. I was desperate to try it. It was the drink given to Peter Rabbit following his misadventures in Mr McGregor's garden -- how could it not be delicious?

When eventually I did taste it, I was quite underwhelmed. This was no tasty elixir: just a watery, slightly nose-tickling insipidness… My impressions otherwise stemmed, I think -- like many things in my early life -- from a fatal misunderstanding of the text: Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail supped on bread and milk and blackberries, after all; it was only my hero, naughty Peter, who was sent to bed with camomile tea to be taken one spoonful at a time…

Still, I'm increasingly fond of it these days. Maybe it's the mug:

Breakfast the Sixtieth

Doppelgänger shreddies and banana.

The only reason I drink chamomile tea is Peter Rabbit. I was always so desperate to try it when I was small. When I finally did, I confess it was something of an anticlimax. Even so, my love of Peter Rabbit keeps me drinking it -- from time to time.

I suppose these days Peter would be slapped with an ASBO quicker than you can say "delinquent." He does, after all, trespass in Mr McGregor's garden; steal some lettuce and French beans and radishes; and, I think, breaks a couple of flowerpots in attempting to make his escape.

Then there are the Two Bad Mice (my other favourites): a couple of breaking-and-entering miscreants who vandalise a house...

Does the Daily Mail know about these furry hoodlums?!