Life had turned out just fine for Duke Morton Young de Garibaldi. By the time he was twenty, he had been awarded his esteemed dukedom from his father and was enjoying all the wealth, status and privilege that the role entitled him. Back then, the House of Garibaldi was probably the most prestigious of the major European biscuit dynasties and as it’s Duke, Morton (with his father being infirm) effectively ruled over every crumb.
It was an exceedingly comfortable existence and for a long time Morton indulged himself wantonly, as only a young man with the keys to a gilded cage can. He immersed himself in all the trappings and luxuries that surrounded court life in his sumptuous palace. In time, his court became infamous for its lavish biscuit-fuelled parties, wild tea breaks and unlimited supplies of ‘dead fly’ and other biscuits.
Morton’s title and wealth made him irresistible to the worlds most exotic and sugar sweet biscuit heiresses. His harem of admirers quickly earned itself the nickname of the ‘Garibaldi Groupies’. Life, in spite of these fringe benefits, gradually became stale for Morton. Something changed within him; he began to resent his shallow, self-centered, existence. He began to question all aspects of the biscuit firmament and his place within it, tiring of his court Hob Nobbers and the hangers on.
Morton started to believe that he had a greater destiny to fulfill, a higher purpose to serve. With his lust for courtly life waning, Morton immersed himself in biscuit related matters, expanding his mind with new knowledge and ideas. Philosophically, he was wrestling with the meaning of biscuits. But Morton was not alone in his introspection; his, more grown-up outlook was increasingly mirrored by his courtiers, and a general interest in the bigger issues began to obsess the people in his lands.
One day, after many months, Morton arose a different man, a driven man – he had finally discerned that something was fundamentally wrong with the structure of all biscuit-dom and that as long as this fault existed, no one would ever be fulfilled or truly happy. It seemed crazy but in his heart of hearts he realised that he no longer believed in biscuits and worse still, had realised they were in truth, a false idol - far from being a fun, moreish snack, they were in fact the unfulfilling main source of discontent amongst his subjects. He now knew that he needed to act fast to repair the damage. The truth was that all the spirited high jinx at court could not make up for the fact that the central focus of their very existence – the biscuit – had ceased to reward people as a treat throughout the day – and it was this that had left them all feeling empty.
So what should he do to make things well again in the kingdom of Garibaldi? He knew he needed to inject some much needed life and belief into his battered biscuit faith. He summoned the world’s greatest, most famous bakers and chocolatiers to his court and then set them the task of re-edifying the humbled biscuit. They toiled and toiled but the fruits of their labours didn’t satisfy him. This failure disheartened him and his subjects leaving them with nothing to believe in. If Morton was to put the life back into biscuits, he needed to innovate and evolve by examining all non-traditional biscuit baking recipes.
Morton escaped to his country estate in order to walk the grounds and contemplate his predicament. It was whilst sitting under the cool shade of one of his orange trees mulling over the various merits and configurations of biscuit, sponge and chocolate that Morton was suddenly struck by a single orange that gravity had decided to throw squarely into his lap. Despite the eye-watering pain, this single orange led to the ‘epiphany’ that changed the course of biscuit history. ‘Orange jam’. This was and always had been the missing ingredient - the Holy Grail to create the ‘sacred trinity’ alongside sponge and chocolate.