Category: australian values

Partly because of parental influence and partly because I really do get wittier the more I talk, I sometimes repeat stories.

‘Yes, ThirdCat,’ friends who arrived on these shores from far lands would say, ‘you did once mention that Bush Biscuits were the second best foodstuff ever to be manufactured and I think you’re probably right that Australian society has suffered since they were discontinued by Arnotts. If only we had arrived in those heady times when tertiary education was free and the greatest arguments were between those who liked their Bush Biscuits plain and those who liked them smothered in Vegemite. Now, perhaps you could tell us again about that time you set your kitchen on fire.’ And they would settle back into their chairs and smile then laugh then roar. My friends are good that way.

And then, at the end of last year, Bush Biscuits returned, packaged in fours rather than eights, and – as with all childhood memories – slightly smaller than you might have thought – but tasting the same.

‘Oh,’ those friend(s) said, ‘ThirdCat you were right. Bush Biscuits are brilliant.’ And they are. Though they are not the healthy option children are taught about in schools these days they are filling, cheap and do not go soggy. And, unlike apples, you can hide them at the back of the cupboard thus ensuring that you have not run out by Friday.

I had thought that Bush Biscuits were an Australian-all-over institution, but it seems I was not right (and that’s something I’m only going to say once). Blog-cruising the other day, I was surprised by Lucy Tartan’s surprise at the Bush Biscuit. It seems that like Fritz, Woodroofe’s lemonade and the State Bank, Bush Biscuits were South Australian.

The future of Bush Biscuits is uncertain, and these days they are manufactured in Papua New Guinea.

This post is not brought to you by SA Great, or KG it just sounds that way.

When you arrive at a BBQ, you should be able to see at least one man wearing an apron. A lasting favourite is the apron of fake breasts. Personalised printed aprons are surprisingly rare. There is often an apron option in one of the NGO Christmas catalogues, and men with daughters doing arts degrees have very often been given one and will be wearing it with real, but hidden, pride. Aprons with Leunig cartoons are last century, but are still seen at the BBQs of cusp-of-retirement teachers (generally history, biology or English).

If there is just one man wearing an apron, he is your host. If there are two men wearing aprons, one is your host and the other is his best mate or brother-in-law. Any more than two men wearing aprons is not natural. You will learn nothing about the real Australia at such a BBQ, and you may as well be at home reading Patrick White.