Review: Savoury Biscuits

Remember that time in primary school when you met your childhood bestie? You probably had Saladas for lunch that day. Last week, when you had a long overdue catch up with old friends? I bet you talked about your mate’s shitty partner over Jatz and dip. Every wholesome Aussie memory is made all the more fond with its light sprinkling of a good savoury biccy.

Shapes

5/5

A reliable pantry staple of any well-functioning Australian family. Best to buy a value pack of Originals and commit only to individual servings – buying by the box risks seven serves being devoured in one sitting. Which flavour reigns supreme: Cheddar? Pizza? BBQ? Cheese & Bacon? Dangerous territory to enter and bound to result in major relationship rifts. Start a flavour debate at your next gathering, sit back with a box and observe as chaos ensues.

Cruskits

2.5/5

Crunchy, but chewy. Really good, but simultaneously underwhelming. Rarely crave them, but sometimes they just hit a spot you never knew you had. Best served with lashings of vegemite and butter. Is it supposed to feel like I’m eating cardboard, or did my sibling forget to store them in a snap-lock bag after they opened the box? Perpetually stale. You probably still have a half-eaten packet in the pantry from 2007. Eat them; they are only exactly the same with age.

Captain’s Table Classic Water Crackers

3/5

Picture this: you’ve just smashed half a wheel of brie with a mate, all the Jatz are gone, and the hummus still has a good few scoops remaining. What do you do? Go to Mum’s back-up biccies, of course. There will always be, without fail, a packet of below average, slightly peppery, very chalky water crackers in the depths of the pantry. Who is buying these? I never actually see them in the shopping trolley. Conspiracy?

Jatz

5/5

Slightly sweet, perfectly salty and the most satisfying amount of crunch you could ever want in a savoury biscuit. Beautifully paired with a Black Swan Tzatziki, but also stand perfectly well on their own. May destroy the inner lining of your mouth, but it’s the things we love that hurt us the most, right? Be careful not to buy Ritz just because they’re on sale and ‘basically the same’. They’re not.

Sakata

4/5

It’s impossible to see a packet and not break out into the jingle we all know and love. SA-KA-TA. You’re doing it right now, aren’t you? One of the more enjoyable options for our gluten-free friends out there. Every flavour has its own charm, but chicken tastes like my childhood. Put entire biscuit in mouth, lick off flavouring, get it stuck, break jaw, eat, repeat. If this doesn’t trigger fond (or traumatic) memories, I feel bad for you.

Salada

4/5

Slap on that spread, sandwich those bad boys together, squish, and watch as the butter worms squiggle out from the holes. You may find yourself covered in crumbs after demolishing a Salada stack. Beware when breaking along the dotted line – there will almost always be one dastardly morsel left behind. Every lunch box has its Salada days. Every lunch box wants to go back. Sigh.

Words by Poppy Fitzpatrick

Illustration by Oliver White

This piece was originally published in Edition 28