Greece is set to be bailed out to the tune £120 billion from the EU and the International Monetary Fund, and whilst the economists and financiers may accuse inflation and pension funds, they are not to blame. We are.
Biscuit shoppers everywhere have let Greece down, badly.
By choosing the bejewelled Boaster or a fancy-dan Choco Leibniz over the humble garibaldi or the mighty fruit shortcake, you were dunking another nail in their Greek coff(ee)in!
You see, all dried fruit was not created equally – although you may consider sultanas, raisins and currents as a collective waste of time, they are very different. Whilst raisins and sultanas are green Thompson grapes that whore themselves to anywhere with a modicum of sunshine, currants only come from Greece. Made from the delicate black Corinth grape and dried for 10-12 days on the Hellenic hillsides.
Once there was a clear line between your standard everyday biscuit and your lunchbox/school trip treat. Digestives and malted milk, firmly in one camp and Clubs and Penguins in the other. There was a biscuit class system and you knew where you stood.
Then the middle-class started to appear – chocolate digestives, Hob Nobs and Toffeepops all created a generation of confusion. No longer were people happy with a Rich Tea or an Abbey Crunch, they became greedy, expecting the biscuit barrel to have something more exotic than a pink wafer!
And now, look around your local supermarket’s biscuit isle and hang your head in shame. Notice how the greats have been relegated to the bottom shelves, festooned in plain-Jane packaging. Cheapened by your lack of love and infatuation with all things luxury. The ever expanding biscuit cuckoo, pushing out the building blocks of biscuit love, fooling you into thinking you are feeding traditional baked goods.
But it is not too late – search back in your soul and seek redemption. You are not middle class, not deep down, if you can acknowledge that, then you have started the road to biscuit Nirvana. Clear your trolley of Jaffa Cakes, Jammie Dodgers and Oreos and stock up on Custard Creams, Ginger Nuts and the glorious Garibaldi. Go home, put the kettle on and get the deck chair out.
Break off a slabette of Garibaldi, run your fingers over the glossy surface and marvel at all those labour intensive currants that are crammed in – just for your pleasure. Ignore the bells and whistles of consumerism and bask in the knowledge that life is all about the simplicity. If anyone dares to ask, tell them that you are building the Greek economy, biscuit by beautiful biscuit.
by Ben Dakin