• The Tenuous Purpose

    This Blog is built - not, as some might expect, on a flimsy whim but on a strong and single minded principle.

    That principle concerns Biscuits and their position in the world.

    We are really very keen on biscuits.
    As are many of you out there.
    We think.

    We wish to create an archive of Arrowroot, a backlog of Bourbons and a catalogue of Chocolate Fingers. Anybody can contribute an entry - or dispute somebody else's - provided they are not dull.
    Even Americans who perhaps don't really have the heritage of biscuitry that we are fortunate to have here.

    Or maybe they do and we are unaware of the full glory of the cookie.

    We realise that this whole subject is admirably and concisely dealt with by that excellent and unbeatable website A Nice Cup of Tea and a Sit Down. Our feeble efforts will be as the kicking of a gadfly in the face of their wisdom and experience but we hope that we may have a small contribution to make.

  • Biscuit Encounters on Twitter

  • The Synod of Biscuitry

    James Alexander-Sinclair of Blackpitts
    Gardener, Blogger, Journalist, Lecturer etc, etc. Much of his life is spent loafing around other people’s gardens issuing directives and generally cluttering up the place. However, like the great Mr Kipling, he does (occasionally) make exceptionally good gardens. (Although even Mr Kipling messed up a bit with the Carrot and Walnut Mini Classics.)

    Mark Diacono of Otter Farm
    He does sterling work growing many inappropriate plants in Devon. He dedicates a great deal of time and effort nurturing a plethora of plants that are (mostly) totally unsuited to our climate. His is a life of such extreme eccentric dedication that to start a Blog about Biscuits seems perfectly normal. He treads gently in the footsteps of people like the great William Buckland,a professor of Geology who claimed that he could tell location by tasting the local topsoil.

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On Not Having A Remarkable Encounter

Dear .. You see? I can’t even bring myself to say your name any more. But I had to write. The others, they’re long forgotten but since I’ve been away, it’s you I’ve missed the most.

You’re so pure. I don’t know if it is the lure of your fingers, the way your skirts glisten and wink at me, urging me to, to, to, lick your … No. I mustn’t…. Oh, to feel your innocent, buttery warmth, your salty-sweetness melting onto my tongue. I can’t go on. Either I cut myself off from you forever which is unthinkable or we run away together, into a cupboard where the world can’t see us. The world: who are they anyway? Who said that you were bad for me? Didn’t they realise that by saying I should avoid you, that they were just pushing us together? Of course they did. They wanted to prove that I am as bad as they say you are. That’s why I had to write. If I come back, will you keep our secret? Do you promise not to leave traces of my ecstasy, your presence on my lips, my hips? Let’s try again. Yes. I can see you now and I am already dribbling. I can picture you lying there with a cup of tea, waiting for me. Dear Shortbread. I’m coming to you.

Get out of my way, Rice Crackers, pretender, my true love awaits.

Kathryn Harris

2 Responses

  1. Oh shortbread, never lets you down. Ever. always great. Never disappointing. We need one of those ‘Lipssmackingthirstquenchingacetastin…’ adverts like pepsi had for Shortbread. We really do.

  2. Get your filthy hands off Shortbread. He’s mine, I tell you, mine, mine, mi …

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