Aussie Food: Vegemite

Ah, I'm sure you've all been waiting for this moment. Now you shall get the lowdown on the iconic Vegemite, staple of an Australian diet. Vegemite was invented during World War 1 as a spread for soldiers during a shortage of Marmite, another salty spread. Due to lack of resources, scientists created Vegemite from leftover brewer's yeast, because even in hard times, Australia had lots of it leftover; Australians can't live without their beer. It has since then gained enormous popularity in its country of origin (though the Kiwis and Brits do eat it at times). It is actually quite healthy, being high in vitamins B1, B2, B3, and B9, a perfect hangover cure to prevent that nasty Korsokov's disease (which probably doesn't even exist in Australia because of Vegemite).

It can be described as an "acquired taste". Most non-Australian's don the easily recognizable "Vegemite Face" after tasting it, this is usually accompanied by a run to the nearest garbage for clean spitting. It is tangy and extremely salty. It's so thick that the flavor lingers on the tongue for the rest of your life.

Jess was on a mission to convert me to the stuff. My first sampling was licked plain, off her finger. I retched. She explained that it probably isn't the best to try it plain. The next tasting was a month or so later, "OK, Aaron, try some Vegemite again, you'll like it on toast!" I didn't like it on toast. She convinced me to eat on toast again at some later date, this time with a thinner coating. Jess loves Vegemite even more than the average Aussie; when she smears it on, it thickens the bread by a centimeter. The result was the same: a half chewed chunk of brown bread sitting on top of the garbage.

She dropped her attempts to convince that Vegemite was anything but the most offensive flavor known to man. I had assumed myself safe, having passed the test of trying it already three times. Two weeks after arriving to Australia, my assumptions proved wrong.

"Aaron! Try this." She shoved a round spongy thing in my face, coated with a too-thick layer of the familiar brown paste (though any amount of Vegemite can be described as too thick).

"What's that?" I asked, not recognizing the round toasted object in her hand.

"It's a crumpet with Vegemite. I know you don't like Vegemite, but it's really really good on crumpets."

I dove into the crumpet like one dives into a freezing cold creek. You can guess the result. I've told this story many a time to Aussies and all found it odd that somebody would actually put Vegemite on a crumpet. Further proof that Jess likes Vegemite too much for her own good.

Oh, oh, how I wish that this story could end right here, just so I can't continue to conjure memories of that salty, slimy, s**t, because eating Vegemite is much like a horrible drunken tattoo, it'll stick with you for the rest of your life. Alas, Jess is quite a tenacious young woman. Months after the crumpet experiment, she conjured her resources and whipped out the strongest weapon the pro-Vegemite camp has against the non-believers: the dreaded (or loved, depending on who you ask) VEGEMITE AND TOASTED CHEESE SANDWICH. This is THE quintessential Australian sandwich, so quintessential, it needs to be bolded, capitalized, and italicized.

Jess was quite sneaky though. She knew it would be her last chance to subject myself to such torture. As the saying goes, five times bitten, you're shy. So, she only smeared the Vegemite on the bottom quarter of the sandwich. I took a bite, then another. Soon, I was wolfing it down.

"Hey Jess, you know, this ain't too bad!"

"Told'jya!" Causually using her classic catchphrase.

I continued eating the sandwich merrily until I hit the Vegemite; instantly the half chewed portion of sandwich was in the bin, with the rest of the sandwich. Jess and her Vegemite was finally defeated! Score one for America!

This not the end of the story though. Fast forward seven months to the near present or recent past, however you want to categorize it. After a night out with Jess and her friends, it was time for the time honored tradition of a post-drinking Vegemite snack.

I saw the jar with its familiar yellow label and feces colored contents.

"Yuck!" I exclaimed.

"Have you even tried it?" Jess's roommate Loren asked.

Jess and I exchanged smiling glances and I told my Vegemite story to that point.

"Well of course you don't like Vegemite if Jess smeared it on. She'd drink if it she could. Have you tried it on a Saho?"

"No, and I don't want to. What's a Saho?"

Within seconds a two centimeter square cracker was thrust in my face, smeared with butter and Vegemite.

"No thanks."

"Just eat it!"

I placed the cracker in my mouth and prepared for the impeding desire to vomit. I chewed, swallowed, and it sat comfortably in my stomach. For the first time ever, I didn't hate it. Loren gave me another and I ate it, sure this was just a one time fluke. Again, same result, non-revulsion. It may be something in the scarce Australian water, but after 10 months of being in this country, I finally found the stuff to be at the least edible, not pleasant, but not horrible either. Somewhere above, Bruce, the Australian demi-god of Vegemite that I at this moment created, erased the original scored point and transferred it to the Australian side with his characteristically large smile. This was a sure sign that it was in fact good that I only had one week left in the country, because if I start liking Vegemite, all hope for me is lost.