As the years pass one’s tastes change.
In every arena from women (or, indeed, chaps), clothes, hobbies, nightlife and of course biscuits.
My wardrobe was much more eclectic (for a while I wore corduroy jodphurs and Antique Polo boots at every opportunity) whereas now I like nothing better than a well made suit or a pair of cashmere socks.
With women it was pneumatics whereas now I seek quality and conversation.
My hobbies used to include heroic smoking and occasional loafing.
When I was younger I was up for dancing all night, every night, whereas now I can only manage it every few months.(i)
As is often the case, however, it is in the field of Biscuits that the differences are particularly distinct.
So far my memorable biscuits have been (in – as they say on X Factor – no particular order
Playbox – scraping the icing off with one’s teeth was a delectable (though frowned upon) sensation.
Penguins – the ultimate treat: one was not enough, two was too many.
Custard Creams – cheap sugar rush
Bahlsen Choco Liebnitz – chocolate as thick as the plate armour of a Teutonic knight.
Marks and Spencer Selection Tin – we used to buy one of these a week and eat them in a precise and exact order.
The Ritz Cracker – their main advantage was that could be eaten anywhere and did not require either effort or cooking. Occasionally they were augmented with Mattessons Liver Pate. In retrospect this was repellent stuff possibly made from finely pureed liver, lights and nipples.
The Bath Oliver – a titan among plain biscuits.
Jaffa Cakes – not, strictly speaking, a biscuit.
Chocolate Digestives – as classic, comforting and timeless as a Harris Tweed Suit.
Now I have a new love: the Marks and Spencer Chocolate Chip Cookie. Thick, chocolatey and obscenely buttery.
And available in petrol stations.
(i) This phrase should not be used out of context.