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A desperate plea for biscuits…

What follows is pretty much the archetypical weblog post. I mean it doesn’t have cats in it or anything, but it’s the next best thing. It’s like practically award-winningly archetypical. You want to give someone a lifetime achievement award for weblogging or something, then it would be for quality posts like this one, right? Right?

When I was a kid – and I mean something like seven or eight years old – I lived in a house in Norwich on a road called Sunningdale. My mother used to do a lot of her local shopping in a tiny little shop on Unthank road. I cannot remember its name. Anyway, my mother used to get me these biscuits – they were made by Bahlsen and were called ABC biscuits – and I used to love them. They were absolutely, undoubtedly my total favourite biscuits. It was my special treat to get a packet of these biscuits.

Anyway, one day they weren’t there any more. Just like that, they were gone. And after a few brief weeks of hoping they’d turn up again, my tiny child-brain got used to the idea that they weren’t coming back and somehow I managed to get on with my life. Every so often I’ve found myself in a shop with Bahlsen biscuits and I’ve had a bit of a scout around to see if they had them. But they didn’t. But hey – no biggie, right?

Recently, however, my family went on holiday and what should they find in some obscure shop is southern Spain, but packets upon packets of my favourite biscuits. And so they bought them. Six packets of them. And I tried them, and they were really nice. And now I’ve only got one packet left (pictured below). So here’s where you guys come in. I don’t want to sound like an addict, but does anyone know where I can get more of these gorgeous beautiful biscuits? I’ll send you cash money for them. If you know a shop in London where I can get them, I’ll be overwhelmed with good-will towards you.

picture of Bahlson ABC biscuits

So there you are – a long post about biscuits in the tradition of English weblogging. But yet also somehow with a touch of self-aware poignancy, because these aren’t just biscuits. They’re also a part of my personal narrative – a piece of my living history rediscovered! Crunchy history! Chocolaty history! Mmm… History..!

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