Gather ‘round all ye Marmie fans. Now in English….. If you love Marmite, Vegemite or Bovril, these bite-sized golden nuggets are coming right at you! Plump little cheesy scones, drenched in a buttery Marmite glaze. Say what? Yes, dinky savoury snack balls, conveniently sized to pop into your mouth, one after another, followed by a second and perhaps, just one more?
For the recipe, click here
Marmite, a tubby-bellied pot of glistening gloop, stands brave and bold, longevity at its side.
This umami flavoured savoury condiment is a staple of most South African pantry cupboards. I still recall as ravenous kids arriving home from school, barely able to wait before tearing into a warm, crusty loaf bought from our local corner café, where standard white or brown bread were the only two options up for grabs.
Smeared with butter and a liberal swipe of ebony spread, this was lunch at its best. Arm wrestling for the crust, we’d plough through warmly buttered wedges until a carb-induced calm settled the frenzy.
If time allowed, a handful of grated cheese was unceremoniously compressed on top. There’s no doubt. When ferocious hunger hits, savoury is the only cure. This enduring partnership of Marmite and cheese lives on. Mathematically speaking then, Cheese + Marmite + Scones = Pure joy. But, if you’re not yet sold, here are a few more compelling reasons why you MUST MAKE THESE MARMIE SCONES. (Sorry for shouting, but they’re just so good)
- Pocket friendly, everyday ingredients
- One bowl, mix and bake batter
- Twenty minutes to cheesy satisfaction
- Freezer friendly and the perfect 911 snack attack back-up plan
To appreciate the origins of the Marmie scone, here’s the story of its celebrated history. A couple of years back I use to belong to a social poker club, sort of like an ‘underground’ gathering of would-be gamblers. In truth, there was no changing of monies involved, although bowls of Woolies chuckles intended as game munchies eventually became the most fitting source of currency.
There was plenty of laughter, eating and obviously some underhanded cheating. The men were quietly competitive, until the women started winning, which threw the game into the realm of seriousness. It was at one such poker night that we first ate these Marmite scones. Later they became known as Marmie scones and attendance hinged on whether the now famous snack would be on the menu.
Eventually, amateur players threw their wretched hands in prematurely, screaming, ‘I fold’ and dashed off to the kitchen for hot scones. I might’ve been one? Anyhow, this is my interpretation of the poker club’s #alltimefavouritesnack. They’re everything you’d expect from a scone and more. Salty, cheesy, pillowy-soft and recklessly moreish.
Rage on the Marmie scone!