Everyone loves a biscuit. Some might protest they do not, but when offered a little something with their tea, who can refuse? When I used to stay at my Aunt Muriel’s home in Dundee, I was given a cup of tea in bed first thing, and with that drink came a biscuit, usually a buttery piece of shortbread or a Royal Scot biscuit. Just what was needed to gear the appetite up for the porridge and Arbroath smokies to follow. And although my own children, when they were young, were always the contrary sort who loved going to friends’ houses where they could have such novelties as packet custard creams or foil-wrapped chocolate biscuits, their friends seemed to enjoy the contents of our cookie jars filled with homemade goodies.
