Turkish delight
Sir: Michael Bloch's article 'Forbidden pleasures' (21/28 December 1991) revived a deep longing for the smell of a Sullivan Powell. I too used to buy mine from Bacon's in Cambridge as a 16-year-old (passing for older) studying for my A levels.
Throughout my childhood my father had always smoked one, and only one, Turkish cigarette with his coffee over breakfast on Sunday morning. Being a good doctor (and a Guardian reader), he decided that even one cigarette a week might shorten his life, and so he stopped. I cannot remember why I stopped; I think while trying to be femi- nine and elegant, picking tobacco out of the teeth was not a good idea, so I changed to tipped Gitanes instead and then eventually to the inevitable Marlboro. I gave up smok- ing long ago, and do not miss the tasteless experience it has become, but I am now thinking hard about when I am next going to be in America and where I can find some Andron and Rameses II, if only to keep them for my son for when he inevitably starts to think about smoking. He can then experience that heavenly smell at least once and I can indulge in nostalgia.
Phyllida Fellowes
62 Charlwood Road, London SW15
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