We used to use a cif stainless steel cleaner that smelt like a hospital. We were sure its fumes must have been harmful, they were so wonderfully caustic. We loved it but mrs bleach hated it. She hates anything where there is a no name, cheaper, supermarket equivalent available. She hates a lot.
She went to the shops and she came back with this:
Silently, we fumed. Harmless, really, but we loved the smell of the CIF. We loved cutting through all the soft smells of a meal with the remoresless smell of hygenie of the cif.
We used to squirt it on the slow cooked pork juice, or the carbonised caramel or the sun ripened tomato sauce and think ‘You’ve had your fun, but it’s clean up time now’ boom
So We fumed, and then we tried its cheaper non brand name replacement.
First impressions; as we found out, like fashion, unfortunately cleaning moves on. What once would have been mocked as a ridiculously over engineered nozel is now normalised. We looked at it dubious, like a caveman would being presented with a zippo lighter. All well and good, but is it better?
Well, yes. We must have used a similar nozzle on some ant killing device once for, on squirting, We had the reminiscance of killing ants as a youth. OK. Not quite a madeline cake, but still.
Then the smell hit me and immediately, we forgot about buring ants with magnifying glasses or squirting them with chemistry, we got proust. We got exactly what he was on about with his books of remembrances (which, alright, we haven’t read but have at least read about).
The best – and We know it’s not great – but the best We can describe the smell is that it smells of something. Possibly raspberry ice cream, possibly of a sweet We used to eat in the 80s.
The difficulty of using this excellent product, and, yes, it is excellent and a worthy replacement for Cif in any kitchen cupboard, is that cleaning lasts much longer than it ought. Hours seem to go by with us in the kitchen with this in our hand, wipe in mid poise, trying to summon up what it is that this smell reminds us of? Lying under an oak tree listening to a tape of Mark Goodier brethlessly announcing the lower reaches of the top 40 on my walkman? The smell of the Busy Bee bus from Newbury to Winchester? Seeing Sue Lawley read the news, or the taste of cheap salt on bad crisps? Who knows, who knows. We well advise, if, perhaps like Mr Bleach’s, your life could use some excitement getting a bottle of this and taking a big deep sniff and waiting for the nostalgia to hit you. Not that Bleach And Tonic advocate glue sniffing, for sure. Remember Zammo! Don’t listen to this with Absolute Radio 80s on, that’s our advice. But do inhale a deep deep draguht. Perfect end to a busy week. Use this and drift away in chemical memories.