You are all – I can just tell – those lithe, wiry sorts who ‘struggle to put on weight’. You’re out in the elements all day, every day, tilling the soil and taking on Mother Nature and you should eat biscuits, and lots of them.
You’re practically wasting away, for goodness sake!
But there is a nether world of biscuits out there that I would guess (judging by your athletic physique) you have yet to experience. I’m afraid I am indeed talking about slimmers’ biscuits. I feel I am lowering the tone of a blog that has so far been all about crumbly butteryness, thick slabby chocolateyness, and marshmallow chewiness, but you should know that some people’s daily biscuit intake is far less luxurious than yours.
I am not a big slimmer, but I have dabbled, and I had a particularly prolonged stint at a well-known slimming club sometime after the birth of my second child. I have put it all behind me now, but a few weeks of hitting the white wine and Green & Blacks a little too hard of an evening saw me tentatively reach for a packet of slimmers’ Caramel Wafers in the supermarket yesterday. This is the pretend version of one of my favourite biscuits, the Tunnock’s Caramel Wafer. I have just eaten one and I will describe it to you: it is easily half the depth of a Tunnocks, and is quite possibly half as wide too, and shorter, of course. The wafer is all there (woo hoo), but the caramel is some kind of tough, snappy, reduced sugar affair. The chocolate comprises possibly the thinnest coating known to man, and could potentially be used as some sort of confectionery tracing paper, should such a thing ever be called for. The slimmers’ biscuit is, as you can see, a mere facsimile, designed not to excite the taste buds and satisfy the appetite but simply to stave off a craving for the real thing, for a little while. And in fact I don’t particularly feel like a Tunnock’s Caramel Wafer now, it’s true, but this is a negative sort of biscuit eating experience, eating something naff to stop you wanting to eat something nice. Another tack taken by the slimmers’ clubs is to encourage you to eat the same thing as usual, just less of it. ‘Eat just one digestive biscuit with your tea, instead of two’ goes the literature. One? Two?! Has anyone ever managed such a thing? I think the final word on restraint, where biscuits are concerned, should go to Lola, of Charlie and Lola fame. ‘I can’t eat more than ten biscuits in one go,’ she says. ‘Ten is enough.’