MALTED MILK BISCUITS

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some malted milks, yesterday

When I was little, the non-chocolatey biscuits were always left languishing on the biscuit plate once all their chocolatey mates had been snapped up, a bit like children in care at the end of a school day. Just like athlete Kriss Akabusi, Big Issue founder John Bird, actor Samantha Morton and my own adopted uncle, however, malted milk biscuits go to show that growing up in such circumstances is far from a barrier to future greatness.

Malted milk biscuits are defiantly unglamorous; they are the Jeremy Corbyn of the biscuit world. They will win no prizes, and let’s not kid ourselves: in a general biscuit election they will always be beaten by a posturing, overrated Bourbon or a solid, straight-down-the-line chocolate digestive. But malted milks are quietly, understadedly classy. The epithet ‘malted’ expresses a certain rural, artisanal wholesomeness and refers to the pleasing, low-lying barley ambience imparted by the biscuit, and the milk element, whilst lying at a mere 1%, provides a certain je ne sais quoi. I could happily eat a whole pack of malted milk biscuits in a single sitting. They are nice. But they are not Nice – that is another type of biscuit. (Incidentally, is the word ‘Nice’ pronounced ‘nice’ or ‘nice’? Answers on a postcard, please.)

What’s more, in what is surely the ultimate test for any biscuit, malted milks are eminently dunkable: they cohere in their original shape and can withstand a fairly vigorous dunking, whilst at the same time becoming infused with tea. (If you dunk biscuits in coffee you are a monster.)

Malted milks are the thinking person’s biscuit. If you are the kind of moron who watches the Kardashians, listens to stuff by Simon Cowell, reads FHM and lols at Dapper Laughs, then fuck off and have an Oreo.

Malted milk biscuits: 10/10

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