In your honor—and only in your honor—I will now search out vegemite. Haven’t had any in well over 30 years, ever since that really weird kid “Oaklander” (yeh, I know, but that’s how she pronounced it) came to our school from downunder. And I will put it on my American biscuit.
As for anzacs, I’ll do my part. I’ve been missing ‘em since Bakerina’s last batch ran out shortly after it arrived.
Sounds a like very good plan to me. Anything that involves biscuits (sweet or savoury) is a bloody good plan.
For the sake of accuracy, I should point out that it was actually Mightymite, an Australian owned and made version of Vegemite (Australia’s iconic food that is no longer Australian). Nowadays, I use the term ‘vegemite’ in the generic fasion.
Ooooooo, I’m so thrilled that you took a bash at these! They are beautiful, aren’t they? And I’m feeling all warm and gooeyhearted at the thought of that paradise jelly being part of the overall experience.
Alas, I have never made a pumpkin scone—which I know is a uniquely Australian delicacy. But I have made other flavors of scones. I think that they are close cousins with American biscuits, but there are differences between the two. In my experience, I’ve found that biscuits adapt better to varying fat levels, i.e. you can use more or less butter, and they’ll still be gorgeous. Scones, on the other hand, definitely benefit from more butter. (I’m trying to fight the urge to say “mo butta, mo betta,” but I’m helpless in the face of it.)
(Note to self: Make pumpkin scones as soon as is humanly possible. :)
Regarding the vegemite controversy: As one who has never partaken, I’m afraid I’ll have to sit this one out until I do. I must say, though, that vegemite on a biscuit sounds no weirder than Bovril spread on toast, which my English friend’s mom loves to do. I find the idea a bit spooky myself, but I haven’t tried it, so I can’t knock it.
hey man, do you speaka my language and that, sadly, has been the extent of my vegemite knowledge...until now. oh, how i wish i had a printer as running up and down the hall while typing up the business line seems so silly. but it is Friday.
actually, it’s MARMITE. the original english savory brewer’s yeast beer making leavings. vegemite and others of its ilk is a slightly weaker and much chronologically later wannabe copy of marmite. (actually that’s what the englishmen i live with tell me. i can’t actually verify that claim as they believe pretty much everything originates with or was invented by the english. soccer included.)
love it, though. lots of vitamin B. nothing like a piece of dark toast with butter, marmite and a runny over-easy fried egg. oh baby. great on bickies too though, of course. and popcorn.
No. It was mightymite. That’s what I used. In fact, that’s all I was claiming.
However, if you’d like to start a war about vegemite and related products, choosing an Australian to do it with will probably be a fruitful plan. In fact (and you can tell I’m tired and grumpy because I’ve used “in fact” at least twice now), if you’d clicked on my ‘iconic’ link you would have seen the history of vegemite, which includes a mention of the ‘original’ but (according to my tastebuds) inferior marmite.
Please, tell me more. Use some more capitals while you’re at it.
ugh, boot =really, have mercy. i’m nearly certain she was just trying to help illustrate things for lazy nonclicking culturally impaired folk like me. no harm.>
oh dear i had no intention of offending anyone. marmite was in caps because . . well . . look at the jar label.
i thought i was making more fun of my hubbie and father-in-law and their “all things originate with the english” sort of stuff, but apparently it didn’t come across that way.
Limine, my apologies. It had been an awful week, day and hour and when I read your comment I forgot to put on my ‘don’t shoot’ filter. You know, the one that normally goes between my brain and my keyboard.
Apologies again.
Oh, my! Here we are two years later. Have *real* biscuits continued in the Australian repertoire?
No, but the occasional ‘mouse biscuit has snuck it’s way onto the plate.
Poor limine.