Breaking biscuit news

Where did all the Fingers go? Plus this week’s market haul, a recipe for a great winter coleslaw and what I’m listening to this week.

This week, my friend Dymphna sent me a link to a piece in The Times. Had I heard about the Cadbury’s Fingers story, she asked? I had not.

French consumers are bereft, their afternoon goûters but ashes in their mouths. For months now, there have been no Cadbury Fingers on the shelves of French supermarkets. In May, Mondelēz (previously known as Kraft) ceased distributing the chocolate-covered biscuits in France. Who knew this once-British treat was so beloved by French people? Not me. They’re welcome enough on a plate of office biscuits, but nothing I would get terribly excited about. Honestly, give me a Lu dark chocolate Petit écolier biscuit any day. (Incidentally, Lu is also owned by Mondelēz. The tentacles of Big Biscuit get everywhere.)

But Finger grief is real (it’s always in the singular on French packaging). It’s been a story in Le Monde and Libération newspapers and the subject of vox pops on television news. YouTube is full of Cadbury Finger sadness. On Le Parisien’s Facebook page, they interview a dapper young gentleman of no more than seven years old who says, “The same as my father, they remind me of my childhood. I ate them a lot when I was little”.

Move over Proust, this is the madeleine moment for a new generation. There is even an online petition. The signatories aren’t playing. “My whole childhood! Bring them back!” “Finger, they’re my whole life,” “A staple from generation to generation. Inconceivable that this tradition will end!”.

It’s not really surprising then, with no indication of when or even if Mondelēz will bring the biscuits back, that some enterprising souls are doing a brisk trade in them on the internet, where a carton of 12 boxes of Cadburys Fingers is a punchy €54.99.

I’m in England for a few days next week. Normally, I bring back Stilton, marmalade, oatcakes or tea for my French friends. Perhaps this time I will be reaching for that little purple box instead.

Red cabbage coleslaw with anchovy dressing

I bought a small red cabbage to go with some duck and – as everyone knows – a small red cabbage, shredded, will easily feed a hundred people. I was looking for things to do with what was left over and I came up with a plan for this coleslaw. It’s a great winter salad, colourful, crunchy and punchy with the anchovy dressing. Just in case the thought of the anchovies makes you nervous, you don’t end up with raw, fishy cabbage. It’s just intensely savoury and good.

If you’re a fearless sort, you can use a mandoline to shred the vegetables, or if you’re short of time use the grater attachment on your food processor. If I have time, I like to use a sharp knife so I can get everything just the way I like it, though I am also enamoured of the cheap julienne cutter I bought for a few Euros in the market years ago – it’s great for shredding just one carrot or some celeriac for a single serving of salad. The other day on TikTok, I saw someone using one to shred red onion so I gave it a try too. It worked pretty well – you anchor the onion with a fork and shred away.

About ¼ of a small red cabbage, approximately 330g, tough core removed and finely shredded
2 tsp table salt
1 large carrot, about 200g, peeled and finely shredded
1 small red onion, about 120g, halved and thinly sliced
1 small red apple, about 120g, unpeeled, cored and cut into small batons
70g lardons or bacon, unsmoked, cut into small pieces of about 5-10mm
A little oil to fry the lardons
40g walnut halves, toasted and roughly broken in your hands
A handful of parsley, fine stems and leaves only, about 20g, chopped
1 tbsp capers, optional

For the dressing
6-8 anchovies in oil
3 fat garlic cloves, halved, any green germ removed, minced
2 tbsp red wine, white wine or cider vinegar
6 tbsp olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Put the finely-shredded cabbage in a colander in the sink or over a plate. Sprinkle over the salt and give it all a good stir. Leave it to sit for 15-30 minutes – this will draw some of the moisture out of the cabbage and stop your salad from becoming soggy. Rinse it generously under cold water then lay it out on several layers of kitchen paper and squeeze out the excess water. You can also use a clean tea towel for this but don’t use a favourite one. It will be stained forever purple.

1. In a large bowl, toss together the cabbage, carrot, onion and apple.

2. Warm a little bit of oil in a small frying pan and sauté the lardons or bacon until crisp. Drain and cool on some kitchen paper.

3. Add the lardons or bacon, along with the walnuts and parsley to the bowl with the vegetables.

4. To prepare the dressing, either chop the anchovies together with the garlic until they form a paste and then in a small bowl, stir them together with the vinegar before slowly whisking in the oil, or you can pound and stir it all together with a pestle and mortar, or you can simply whizz the whole thing together in seconds in a mini chopper. Taste and add more salt and pepper if you think it needs it – it may not need any salt, depending on how salty your anchovies are.

5. Trickle the dressing over the salad ingredients and toss together until very well combined. Let everything sit for at least 20-30 minutes for the flavours to combine before serving. It will keep for two or three days sealed in a container in the fridge.

What I’m listening to while I’m cooking

One of my favourite things in life – pottering about in the kitchen – is always enhanced by having something absorbing to listen to. Sometimes it’s music, but more often it’s a podcast or a book on Audible. I thought I’d start sharing what I was enjoying each week, and I’d love it if you’d share anything you’re enjoying in the comments too – I am always very keen on recommendations.

This week, I’m listening to KILL LIST (Wondery/Spotify/Apple) . It’s a thoroughly gripping series presented by journalist Carl Miller who documents the discovery of a kill list on the dark web in 2020 – 175 people all over the world whose murders are being solicited, each hit to be paid for in Bitcoin. It’s a scam, designed to part the murderous from their money, but once they’re thwarted, some of them take matters into their own hands. Those intended targets really are in danger. You feel Miller’s frustration as he tries to get the police, Interpol and even the potential victims themselves to take the threats seriously. It’s like listening to the most heart-in-mouth thriller, made even more terrifying because this is real life.

Market haul, 13 November 2024

This week’s market haul comprises: an apéro mixture of olives and pickled vegetables, pitted black olives for cooking (I used to be purist about pitting them myself, isn’t that hilarious?) anchovies in oil, red peppers, potimarron and pâtisson (red kuri and pattypan) squashes, beautiful local leaf spinach, apples and pears, a slice of Cantal Entre Deux ( between two because it is medium-matured, usually between about three and seven months), a truffled chèvre, two Saint-Marcellin cheeses, 2 dozen eggs, limes, coriander, tomatoes, sweet onions.