Potted Stilton with Bath Olivers


Right, straight off the bat, trying to pretty up a pot of stilton is a task. Trying to pretty up a packet of biscuits and a pot of stilton? What’s the point.

This then led me off on a wild goose chase through my consciousness. We are right to be told that the food scene in the UK has changed immeasurably. The problem is that often the curse of prettying up a plate of food has detracted from the art of serving good produce. 

Recently I popped out for lunch, somewhere very on ‘instagram’ trend and was served just about perfectly acceptable food. Food which was an exercise in artistic presentation, smears and slates, foams and flowers. All of which tasted as my companion suggested of “school dinners, but, you know, from a decent school”. 

I didn’t attend said school, so I’ll take their word, but I thought it was bland and boring in that reassuringly expensive yet thankfully photogenic way. Influencer food.

All of which is highly sad. We are surrounded by produce that given the chance will blow your pre-coital socks off. Sadly a lot of it, is ugly. 

Now, I’m not suggesting that pot of stilton I mentioned 180 words back is ugly. It’s not and well once eaten, the pot has a second life. It’s just that it isn’t trying to be something it’s not. 

This is Paxton & Whitfield’s comforting stilton, crumbled into a jar & sealed. 

It’ll keep, won’t offend train passengers – Mont d’Or is wonderful and a challenge to commuters – but, once you’ve gone through the ritualistic opening, it’ll last about the 105 minutes of Super Sunday, game, punditry and all. 

As for the biscuits, I like a Bath Oliver, for some reason they remind me of being a child. 

They taste distinctive and bland,  with a good baked crunch, not too much of a crunch though. Pretty much the perfect all round cheese biscuit. 

Oh and like the stilton, the packaging is fancy.