Fucking semantics again.
Plus it’s obvious, and the highest authority I can think of when it comes to biscuits offers a ruling that lines up with mine.
It’s got the word cake in it, and it is made out of sponge.
I’m a firm believer in self-determination, self-labelling and self-identification. I currently identify as Queer and Genderqueer despite (and in fact because) these terms have a flexibility and fudgy indeterminacy (and niche understanding) that kind of makes them a poor means of communicating anything specific.
But this is fine, because I’m trying to be non-specific. It means I can easily either close down or open up a conversation, just by saying some straightforward words in a particular term.
But if I wanted to identify as a cake or a biscuit, then that’s my fucking business. So leave the Jaffa’s be.
I don’t understand how anyone is confused by this. Honestly. No disrespect to the questioneer, it’s definitely not the stupidest question we’ve had (I reserve judgement on that, and I’m pretty sure the stupider questions tend to get better answers, so the value judgement, as always, is useless), but it is more than a little obvious.
Just because you end up in the biscuit aisle doesn’t mean you stop being the cake you are.
I think that’s an idea that can be extrapolated to real life too. But I’ll leave it up to you.
I mean. I’d never serve a jaffa cake as a birthday cake, unless it was for somebody who was really obsessed with jaffa cakes. But then, that’s mostly out of wanting to put some of my own love into something I was making for a birthday. (By love, in the context of cooking, I normally mean ‘some of my hair’. I consider it a compliment, obv).
I don’t even think Jaffa Cakes are all that, actually.
As a cake (which is what they are) they are too stiff and stodgy, as a biscuit (which is what they aren’t) they are useless for dunking.
In fact, this is probably where the confusion comes from. Basically, whatever you are expecting, it seems like a stale version of it. A too stiff cake or a too soft biscuit. Not ideal.
I actually quite like the staleness, but it’s kinda unenjoyable. It feels like eating something that’s a little dead. Only it’s sweet enough for it to be okay. And nostalgia. There’s definitely a lot of nostalgia.
When I was little I loved jaffa cakes, but mostly just for the challenge. My eating routine basically consisted of trying to eat as much as possible in separate layers. Chocolate first, then the glorious orange stickiness (actually the most rancidly sweet bit, but it felt like an achievement, which cancelled it out some) and finally some stale, unpleasantly yellowed cake.
It was hard work, but worth the achievement.
Word to the wise, never ask about my favourite childhood methodology for eating ‘maria’ biscuits (essentially posh rich teas).
Or chocolate mousse.
Illustration by Jaime.