When I was younger I didn't have a sweet tooth. Not at all. Which was a bit of a waste, really, as from the age of three I lived in a shop which sold all manner of cakes, confections and chocolatey treats. Including biscuits, of course. My brother was mad for Wagon Wheels and mint (toffee ones at a push) YoYos. I preferred a Jacob's cream cracker with a chunk of Cheddar.
In the early days of the shop, sweet biscuits were displayed in glass fronted tins and purchased by weight. The more adventurous shopper would ask for 'an assortment'. My dad didn't sell the broken ones. They were the province of Marshall's biscuit stall on our local market which sold enormous mixed bags every Tuesday.
Even being Biscuit Monitor in my last year at primary school (I think my headteacher, who ordered her own groceries from my parents' shop, assumed I'd inherited the necessary skills), with a choice of chocolate digestives, dinky mallows and rainbow wafers on sale, didn't convert me.
The first biscuit I remember eating in its entirety was when I was about 17 and with a group of friends in a coffee bar in town one Saturday afternoon. They'd bought little packets which contained three or four biscuits to dunk in their 'froffee coffees' (in his defense, the proprietor was known more for his ice cream cornets). Not wanting to be different I joined in and, lo and behold, started an on-off love affair with the bourbon cream (which, incidentally, I never dunk, that's why gingernuts were created, and I never remove the top layer to eat first).
Last night, the kettle was on but the biscuit tin was empty. So I had a go at baking a batch of bourbons using this recipe, which can be veganised using soya spread in place of the butter if you so wish and which resulted in 12 biscuits.
They were quickly made and surprisingly bourbon-like.
Consequently, the biscuit tin is still empty.
* With apologies to Kia-Ora