AMERICA awoke last week to the news that the makers of the iconic Twinkie snack bar were going out of business. It coincided, by strange chance, with the third anniversary of the demise of a uniquely Australian product.
After 62 years of continuous production, the confectionery giant Nestle announced, in late November 2009, it was a wrap for the Polly Waffle, with a spokeswoman declaring “no one buys it any more”.
For those of us who identified keenly with these nubbly old bars with their marshmallow centres, the extinction was sad.
As shelves were cleared to make way for slicker, more contemporary confectionery, I ruminated gloomily about use-by dates.
It didn’t help to discover the media studies class I’d been asked to address that week was labouring under a serious misnomer about their special guest.
The students’ disappointment was acute when they realised I was not the erstwhile blonde, totally telegenic Sarah Harris of Channel 9 reporter fame.
Returning somewhat crestfallen to the office, I observed morosely to colleagues it was as if I were the Polly Waffle incarnate.
In an attempt to cheer me, two of them set off on a hazardous road trip to secure the last Polly Waffles in captivity. They returned triumphant with three bars found under a dusty counter in a shop in Urana in the Riverina.
Now, after three years of them sitting in the cabinet with heirloom china, it’s time to let go.
So I’ve posted one to Julia, one to Tony and the third on eBay under “rare, iconic Polly Waffle”, with proceeds to go to the Cancer Council.
Admittedly, it’s now two years after its best-before date, but isn’t this just the golden age of Polly Waffle?
