The Fribble

Nostalgia, by the spoonful…

Some memories arrive through sound or scent … but the sweetest ones come through taste.

A family trip to Disney brought us to “England” at Epcot. After enjoying our fish and chips and bangers and mash, we casually moved on to dessert. As we chatted about our day and debated what ride to tackle next, my Nana suddenly began weeping. I mean… really crying.

Startled, we all turned to her. “Nana, what’s wrong?”

Had we said something? She’d seemed to be having a good time.

“Myyyy mother’s sauce!”

Through her tears, she finally blurted it out.

We looked at each other, confused. “What?! What are you talking about?”

She pointed to her dessert. With one bite of that dish, she had been transported… suddenly and vividly… back into her mother’s kitchen, tasting a flavor she hadn’t experienced since childhood. That one taste had brought her mother back to life for a moment.

Even funnier? None of us had ever heard her mention her mother before… not once. But in that instant, she was a little girl again, eating something that had love baked into every bite.

It’s amazing how food, a smell, a sound, or even a single image can pull us right back into a memory. It’s like emotional time travel. And sometimes, those moments come out of nowhere.

One happened to me the other day:

After my bilateral mastectomy, my brother… who lives across the country… sent me a surprise delivery from Friendly’s. I didn’t even know Friendly’s still existed. He sent a bunch of comfort food for my family and me, including dessert.

My husband looked at one of the drinks and asked, “What is this?”

I glanced at it. “A milkshake, I think. Let me try.”

“A Fribble!”

One tiny sip, and my childhood was suddenly in the room with me.

I hadn’t said that word in over 20 years.

But in that moment, I was 8 years old again, sitting with my dad and brother, laughing so hard while playing a game of telephone that I gave myself an asthma attack. For years, we joked about that memory… until it faded with time.

Until that one sip.

And just like that, the Fribble became my mother’s sauce.

Memory is a flavor that lingers

If nostalgia hits you as hard as it hits us, here are a few pieces worth exploring:

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