Heartland

NO

emilystrange wrote:NO

I think maybe you hesitated there just for a moment.

Definitely not.

Only for as long as it took me to get to the keyboard!

Wikipedia actually classifies them as pastries

They did fig rolls during Biscuit Week on Bake Off. If Paul Hollywood says they're biscuits that's good enough for me.

While not strictly biscuits for the purposes of VAT, I'm having Jaffa Cakes for breakfast.

Dunked, natch.

i am putting fig rolls on my shopping order

emilystrange wrote:i am putting fig rolls on my shopping order

Burn the witch!

you can come here and try!

Maybe it's only my aged and slightly infirm internal plumbing, but don't you find that figs...um...give you terrible wind?

never had any effect on me

Mr Strange looked askance at my fig rolls when we unpacked the shopping. I blamed everything on all of you.

emilystrange wrote:Mr Strange looked askance at my fig rolls when we unpacked the shopping. I blamed everything on all of you.

emilystrange wrote:Mr Strange looked askance at my fig rolls when we unpacked the shopping. I blamed everything on all of you.

All the more for you then if he doesn't want them!

Hope you got some extra loo rolls in with that shopping . . . . .

I've eaten all but one, which I will have in a minute.
but.. but.. i've never been affected by fig rolls. my constitution is hardier than that!

Oh the humanity

Pista wrote:Oh the humanity

Just when you think things cannot get any worse.....☹️

emilystrange wrote:Mr Strange looked askance at my fig rolls when we unpacked the shopping..

That would be the best opening line ever to a biscuit themed novel.

Microcosmia wrote:

emilystrange wrote:Mr Strange looked askance at my fig rolls when we unpacked the shopping..

That would be the best opening line ever to a biscuit themed novel.

I think it's high-time that we created a crowd-sourced biscuit-themed novel. We've got a killer opening line, all we really need is a good title (Crumbs! [an Inspector (Earl) Grey Mystery], Through A Glass Dunkly, So Nice in Nice, Lincoln Green (a ransom/kidnap/caper/whodunnit set in the murky world of high finance and baked goods), and some deep characters (Richard 'Rich' T Becker, the ruthless blonde Teuton with his finger on both the pulse of sugar arbitrage and the trigger of a solid silver Colt 45 with the mother-of-pearl inlaid handles that was, at that very moment, pointed at the head of Francois Bourbon, scion of the storied French dynasty, who just moments ago had revealed that he knew where Becker had stashed the blueprints he'd stolen from Giuseppe Garibaldi relating to the Nice Protocol, a top secret plan to kidnap Malcolm "Mac" Vitty, the only man who knows why the chocolate is on the bottom, not the top, of the biscuit. Inspector 'Earl' Grey, the hard-bitten coppers' copper, doesn't always play by the rules, but since discovering the smashed body of Peter 'Pink' Wayfair at the foot of London's tallest office block he knows that he'll need to use every trick in the book to bring Becker to justice. The action proceeds at a breakneck pace from the shady bootleg flour merchants of London's east end to the fleshpots of the mysterious orient and the canyons of Manhattan, to a thrilling denouement played out in Fortnum & Mason's tea room). Who's with me?

EvilBastard wrote:

Microcosmia wrote:

emilystrange wrote:Mr Strange looked askance at my fig rolls when we unpacked the shopping..

That would be the best opening line ever to a biscuit themed novel.

I think it's high-time that we created a crowd-sourced biscuit-themed novel. We've got a killer opening line, all we really need is a good title (Crumbs! [an Inspector (Earl) Grey Mystery], Through A Glass Dunkly, So Nice in Nice, Lincoln Green (a ransom/kidnap/caper/whodunnit set in the murky world of high finance and baked goods), and some deep characters (Richard 'Rich' T Becker, the ruthless blonde Teuton with his finger on both the pulse of sugar arbitrage and the trigger of a solid silver Colt 45 with the mother-of-pearl inlaid handles that was, at that very moment, pointed at the head of Francois Bourbon, scion of the storied French dynasty, who just moments ago had revealed that he knew where Becker had stashed the blueprints he'd stolen from Giuseppe Garibaldi relating to the Nice Protocol, a top secret plan to kidnap Malcolm "Mac" Vitty, the only man who knows why the chocolate is on the bottom, not the top, of the biscuit. Inspector 'Earl' Grey, the hard-bitten coppers' copper, doesn't always play by the rules, but since discovering the smashed body of Peter 'Pink' Wayfair at the foot of London's tallest office block he knows that he'll need to use every trick in the book to bring Becker to justice. The action proceeds at a breakneck pace from the shady bootleg flour merchants of London's east end to the fleshpots of the mysterious orient and the canyons of Manhattan, to a thrilling denouement played out in Fortnum & Mason's tea room). Who's with me?

And this could be the blurb on the back cover, that's phenomenal progress in under an hour...!

What a week. Gigs, Gift and now a Biscuit themed thriller.
I'm in heaven.

I'm in if we can squeeze in a Viscount or two

SmileySister wrote:I'm in if we can squeeze in a Viscount or two

Viscount Sebastian de Pfeffel Burton left his wife Araminta (Minty for short) at her favourite New Bond Street boutique and repaired to his club, the Bakers, Confectioners, and Allied Guilds, in St James' for a cocktail before lunch. Handing his coat and hat to the cloakroom attendant he made his way to the members' bar where he ordered a Blue Riband. The cocktail, a creation of the club's Lebanese bartender Dunque A'biqué, was a mixture of blue curacao and vodka with a dash of cane syrup and served with an orange twist, and was guaranteed to take the edge off.

Turning to face the room Burton surveyed the pre-lunch crowd there assembled, the usual mixture of crusty warhorses with a few new bloods of the own-brand salesman stripe. While Bakers' continued to hold to their No Women rule it had found it financially expedient to relax its membership criteria somewhat to avoid pecuniary embarrassment following the SFO investigation resulting in several of the club's Board of Directors taking extended holidays in countries that lacked extradition treaties, rather than face charges of embezzlement.

EvilBastard wrote:.....a creation of the club's Lebanese bartender Dunque A'biqué....

Would there be a role (roll?) in this caper for a shades wearing rockstar type?An international man of mystery who has seen it all while having a quiet smoke outside venues just about everywhere and who probably knows the people who know what really happened to the iced gems.The sort that might leave cryptic clues strategically placed in lyrics or on band merch...

I think Bono's on a week's holiday.