We have had, by and large, a complete aversion to currants and other such fruit in cakes for as long as I can remember. My brother was aware that they were always referred to as ‘dead flies’ but, being four years younger than me never knew the origin of this reference.
According to my maternal grandmother, it relates to an incident in my mother’s childhood when they were visiting Aunty Mary at Portobello, Bilston, in one of the ‘slums’ that were cleared to make room for the Willenhall – Wolverhampton carriage way that goes down to join the Black Country route near Tesco. If I may be permitted to continue my ramblings for a little further, and try and stop me on my blog, I clearly remember visiting Aunty Mary with my Nan in the little two up two down house and was amazed to see the old black range fire/stove combination that was still very much in use in what served as the living room and kitchen combined. As a child I thought this was the latest technology; a fire you could make a cup of tea on in your living room.
Anyway, as a little girl my mother went round with her mum for a visit and were given a slice of current cake with the traditional cuppa. Now as it was the height of summer there were several fly papers hanging from the ceiling and my mother asked, “What do you do with all the dead flies?” Her Uncle replied, “What do you think you’re eating?” 
