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My 80 years of life have presented many lyrical moments, but birthdays always seemed to be off-key.
Given that I managed to pop out of the womb a couple of months early, making me a December Sagittarian, it ought to have been a snap two for the price of one.
First would come Hanukkah filled with delicious food (which these days includes bizarrely named dishes such as Torah Cannoli ricotta cheese with marshmallow fluff and chocolate, since you ask) and then Christmas with plum pudding.
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Unfortunately, growing up in postwar North London, the closest we got was a package of Angel Cake mix which arrived in food parcels from America and sat on the kitchen table, a mystery to all.