Spreading the Arnott’s love around the world…

August 27, 2015 at 20:16 | Posted in biscuits | Leave a comment
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twitter arnotts message‘A rather unreasonable plan’. This was how my correspondent on Twitter put it.

Not that I get a great deal of correspondence on the twitter. I suppose the three real people and the twenty spambots who follow me love to get notified that yet more random musings on the world of Australian biscuits are available for their reading pleasure, but for the most part I rarely think about it.

Until someone contacted me, having read my blog, asking for help. To be honest, I was so excited to hear that someone actually read my blog, I was immediately minded to help. And as it happens, the problem was a real one.

It was all to do with Lemon Crisps. That oh-so-moreish biscuit. Apparently, you can’t get them in Germany. This I can imagine would be a problem – especially if you have developed a full-blown addiction to them whilst visiting Australia.

Well, of course I had to help. Us Lemon-Crisp-addicts have to stick together. So I put together a small emergency pack of them, together with a few other choice varieties (choosing the most addictive ones. Oh, yes, really I am just an evil pusher..) and send them over to Germany.

The result, as you can imagine, was a great deal of consternation. When an unlabeled parcel arrives full of highly addictive substances, one is bound to be a bit suspicious. However, I understand that it took only a few minutes for the suspicion to be replaced by delight as the packets were torn open to reveal their sweet delights.

facebook arnotts world

So there we go. Spreading the Arnott’s love around the world. Perhaps I should start an export business?



The mighty Lemon Crisp

February 1, 2010 at 17:53 | Posted in biscuits | 13 Comments
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Yes, folks, here it is. The biscuit review you’ve all been waiting for – Arnott’s Lemon Crisp.

The Lemon Crisp is part of Arnott’s cream biscuit line which includes Orange Slices and Shortbread Creams. The packaging is similar; the rectangular pack contains 19 biscuits, which are presented in a plastic tray to prevent them getting damaged. So far, all pretty standard stuff – this is going to be a pretty regular lemony biscuit, you are thinking. Well, the Lemon Crisp is far from that; it has an extraordinary secret that is not immediately obvious on visual inspection. But we will come to this…

Each biscuit is about 60mm long and 32mm wide; the overall depth is 13mm, with the filling comprising 2.5mm of that thickness (quick maths question; assuming each biscuit in the sandwich is of equal thickness, how thick is just one of the sandwich biscuits? First to answer receives a pack of Lemon Crisps through the post). The are quite attractive, with an even, light-brown bake that is glistens slightly with what looks like sugar. The pack suggests the filling is kind of piped by hand in attractive swirls; in reality it’s more evenly applied. Perhaps the package photography was done on an engineering sample that was created by hand, prior to the mechanisation of production.

It is when you eat a Lemon Crisp that it’s secret is revealed. As you bring it closer to your mouth, you can smell the attractive* lemony fragrance. As you bite into it, the biscuit crumbles quite easily; the texture is akin to a TUC biscuit (for the English readers) – very open textured. And, just then, it hits you. They are not sprinkled with sugar. It is salt.

This, I have to say, is biscuitry genius. Whoever the person was who, on finalising the recipe for the Lemon Crisp, said – ‘Hmmm, that’s not bad – but what it needs is salt’, well, I bow to them. It is truly inspired. The filling is creamy and sweet with a distinct lemon tang (which comes from real lemon oil, rather than artificial flavour). The crispy biscuit is sweet and moreish. But the salt. Oh my goodness, the salt. It just defies description. It is awesome.

After you have finished your Lemon Crisp, you lick your lips. They have the merest hint of salt on them, whilst the lemon flavour lingers on the palate. And you reach for another one. And then another. You have to. I’m surprised Arnott’s aren’t forced to put an ‘addictive substance’ warning on these biscuits, and restrict sales to minors.

Well, I have to end there. I can no longer type; the biscuits are open, and I am going to retire to a chair to eat the entire packet. I know, I should be strong. But in the face of such a sensory onslaught, I am helpless. Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm……


*Mrs Chillikebab hates the smell of them. Says they smell like washing up liquid. Bah.

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