While waiting outside Langley station in Berkshire, I found myself chatting with Lesley Nicol, the actress known for portraying Mrs. Patmore on Downton Abbey. Our conversation drifted towards nostalgic topics, and she brought up a treat from childhood known as a Jubbly, a frozen confection that many of us hold dear memories of.
This reflection was sparked by an email I received from a Guardian reader named Bloss, who resides in Marple near Stockport. She wrote to me, perhaps overestimating my capacity for influence, requesting that I help bring back Rose’s Lime Marmalade to grocery store shelves. It seems her husband has a particular fondness for it, and while she can find Rose’s Lemon & Lime Marmalade, it doesn’t quite satisfy his craving for the lime-only version.
To her husband, I would offer a couple of observations. Firstly, while I admire his specific taste, I might suggest that he reassess his preferences. After all, how significant is the difference between lemon and lime compared to lime alone? Secondly, he should recognize how fortunate he is to have a partner who is so dedicated to catering to his breakfast spread preferences.
Bloss mentioned that for a time, she could find the marmalade in a small East Sussex village, but that source has now dried up. She even tracked it down to an industrial area in Leeds, only to discover that the lime-only variety is no longer in production.
It’s unfortunate for both Bloss and her husband. I wish I could assist, but the situation is complicated by the fact that Rose’s is manufactured by Histon Sweet Spreads, a subsidiary of the Hain Daniels Group, which is part of Hain Celestial Group based in Hoboken, New Jersey. The company’s president, Alison E Lewis, was whom I considered addressing in an email. I thought of writing, “Dear Ms. Lewis, would you mind removing the lemon from your lemon and lime marmalade?” However, I realized that might be too absurd even for me.
It makes me wonder why Rose’s cannot be produced in a small, family-run factory, perhaps by a descendant of Lauchlan Rose, who established the brand in Leith in 1865. He was the innovator who developed a method to preserve lime juice with sugar rather than alcohol, thus creating Rose’s Lime Cordial, which, interestingly, is now manufactured by Coca-Cola rather than Hain Celestial.
Though this won’t help Bloss or pique her interest, I did manage to locate some imported Rose’s Lime Marmalade from New Zealand. The reason for this availability is a mystery to me, and I cannot delve further into this intriguing situation.
Encouraged by Bloss, I reached out to others to inquire about discontinued products they missed. Among the responses, there was a nostalgic yearning for Spangles, Spartans, and Cheese Moments. One person expressed such despair over the discontinuation of the dark chocolate Bounty that I felt compelled to initiate a global search, although I have few promising leads.
Another individual mentioned a desire for “real chocolate without soy lecithin,” whatever that entails. Personally, I yearn for Izal Medicated toilet paper, a rather specific nostalgia that I won’t elaborate on here. Notably, no one mentioned any products that could be considered healthy; there were no heartfelt cries for a bygone broccoli variety.
Returning to the topic of Mrs. Patmore’s Jubbly, it seems that the most frequently recalled items were various inexpensive frozen treats. These treats, fondly remembered by various names such as Mr. Freeze, Tip Tops, and Ice Pops, hold a cherished spot in many people’s hearts. Curiously, while many of these products are still available, they often come in larger packs at supermarkets. In my recent explorations of local corner shops, I found Calippo, which is somewhat close but not quite the same—it’s a more upscale version.
The authentic Jubbly, as I recall, was encased in thick plastic and frozen to a degree that made them almost painfully cold to hold. The challenge was to break through the plastic to access the sweet, sugary liquid within, leading to the inevitable loss of baby teeth for many children.
While I shudder to think of the ingredients, those were carefree days when we were young and unburdened. These treats were among the first indulgences we could purchase for ourselves after school. Eating them taught us valuable lessons: consuming them too quickly would lead to tooth and eye pain, while taking too long meant they would melt away. Savoring the experience, just like in life, was key.
As for the Jubbly, I was surprised to learn that this precursor to the elongated ice pop was shaped like a tetrahedron or pyramid! It’s no wonder Mrs. Patmore has such fond memories of them. The good news is that they are still available, albeit not in their original packaging; however, they retain their classic shape. I know what to get Lesley for Christmas, and that, quite literally, is lovely jubbly for everyone involved.
Adrian Chiles is a broadcaster, writer, and columnist for The Guardian.
