Sunday, 2 August 2015

Breakfast Biscuits

There I was, walking through the supermarket and minding my own business, when a packet fair sprung out from the shelves and screamed 'Buy me! Buy me!'

I'd been fairly good up to that point. My one treat item had been some fresh bread. And a packet of potatoes thinly sliced, salted, and fried in oil. And a bunch of rice pressed into a delicious healthy treat, then slathered with cheese and fat. And a... never mind, this is getting me nowhere.

Needless to say, I was having a normal shopping experience where I was ignoring the list I'd painstakingly drawn up in favour of grabbing things that my stomach insisted it deserved off the shelves. I'd put about half of them back, which is a good week, and then I saw the dream item from hell.

Breakfast biscuits.

I've never heard of such a thing before. I may never hear of them again if they're as patently ridiculous as their name sounds.

I grabbed them, and scurried to the checkout before I could change my mind.

It's probably worth noting that at this stage I had no idea of what was in these biscuits. There was a list of ingredients of course, that's mandated by law, but my darling frowns upon the reading of labels in the supermarket. It upsets his routine.

True story, his mother once walked through a supermarket collecting the items she collected each week, and almost fell into a construction pit in the middle of the store, because she was just looking at the next item on her list. Luckily her husband had chosen that day to accompany her and dragged her out of harm's way.

These are the genes that were passed down to my darling. It's not his fault, really. He has a list. He puts items on the list as things run out at home. He doesn't try something new. Ever.

He doesn't need to read the list of ingredients because he already knows them off by heart after having eaten the same item made by the same brand for at least forty of the last fifty years. You don't want to be around him when they discontinue items. He often chooses to just eat less for a time until something sorts itself out.

Once I'd got the fantastic new item home, I cracked open the box and took one of the breakfast biscuit packs out of it. There are five. Well, not now because I've had them for two days, but there were.

Each packet has two biscuits. I don't know why this is the appropriate serving size when you choose to have biscuits for breakfast, but it's the size they come in so it must be right.

In case you're wondering if these biscuits are like the North American biscuits that we would more appropriately call unlevened scones, or if you were one of those weird creatures from across the ditch you'd call damper, don't continue to wonder. They're not. They are sweet biscuits held together with chocolate hazelnut cream filling.

At least, the ones I purchased are. I did have the choice of other flavours of creamy filling, but this one appealed to me more than the yoghurt or strawberry or I-don't-know-because-I-didn't-have-enough-time-to-read-them flavours.

And what, pray tell, makes them biscuits appropriate for breakfast rather than dessert or afternoon tea? The label stating that they're for breakfast which gives me permission as early in the day as I please. That's all I needed. Thank you Sunblest. You are blessed amongst biscuit makers.

1 comment:

  1. Hmmm. They sound good. But, I bet you broke the first rule of food shopping -- going to the store hungry. :)
    @dino0726 from 
    FictionZeal - Impartial, Straighforward Fiction Book Reviews