I skipped dinner on Tuesday night because I had a special date
with a Scottish legend - the Tunnock's biscuit Factory in
Uddingston, a few miles out of Glasgow. I was preparing my
tastebuds for the delicious combination of chocolate, biscuit and
gooey marshmallow that requires repeated licking of the lips to
remove all traces.
The Scots go wild for these biscuits, quoting the Teacake
Appreciation Facebook Group, Steve Arnold says: I have
worshiped at the alter of Tunnockiness since I was a child. My
record in one bash is 3 x 6 packs of Teacakes and 4 Snowballs and I
still wasn't sick. Nice one Steve.
I arrived a little late at the factory and was given earplugs, a
protective white suit and a hair net and ushered to meet my group,
eight excited women whose combined age would be close to 1000. I'd
say if you lined up every teacake they'd eaten between them over
the years you'd reach the moon, or London at the very least. They
had been bused in from an old folks home to get the inside scoop on
their favourite sport - drinking tea and eating Tunnock's
teacakes.
There's a 12 month waiting list to go on the tour but the beauty
is it's not as official or regimented as most factory tours. Bonnie
(our lovely guide) just stops her normal job on the production line
for an hour every Tuesday evening and walks you around, encouraging
you to sample enough fresh caramel to send your blood sugar level
to a lifetime high. I expected everything to be a lot more
automated so it was a nice surprise to see dozens of smock-wearing,
smiling staff working hands on to produce the highest quality of
biscuits. We saw the making of snowballs, caramel wafers and
finished with the mighty tea cakes.
At the end of the tour we all sat down in the staff cafeteria
for a cuppa and a natter. I told them all about my Indiana June
adventures and I can only imagine the stories they'll recount in
their knitting circles about the Kiwi girl they met who is cycling
the world, fuelled by biscuits.
As the old dears carefully unwrapped the red and silver foil
from their teacakes you could have sworn they'd wound back and the
clock and it was Christmas morning 1924, they were that excited. As
we said goodbye and they all shuffled out carrying hairnets bulging
with sweet treats I couldn't stop smiling at the gaggle of grannies
who had made my Tunnock's tour such an unforgettable
experience.