Garibaldi: The history of nobody's favourite biscuit
Known as the ‘squashed fly biscuit’, ‘dead fly biscuit’, or ‘fly sandwich’, the Garibaldi isn’t many people’s first pick from the tin. Yet despite its reputation, the Garibaldi biscuit has been a mainstay of the British biscuit tin for well over 150 years. (I also happen to love them and might attempt this Delia recipe while in lockdown.)
Garibaldi, the man
Before there was a biscuit, there was a man called Giuseppe Garibaldi. Garibaldi was a popular hero of the Italian Unification, instrumental in bringing the Italian states under one monarchy.
Italy was seen as the land of culture and history and had long been of interest to the English upper classes. As a result, from the 1820s onwards, England welcomed the first waves of political refugees.
Garibaldi had already made a celebrated visit to Newcastle, England, in 1854, though the hero’s welcome he received had bemused him somewhat, seeing as he’d only arrived to collect a cargo of coal for the ship he was captaining.
It was his invasion of Sicily and Naples in 1860 which really caught the British imagination. His heroic exploits were covered in all the major British newspapers and he became increasingly popular in England during the 1860s. By the time he returned to Britain in 1864, a ‘vibrant cult had flowered’.
Giuseppe Garibaldi (1807-1882) on Horseback. Source: National Trust Collections
An extract from the New York Times during his 1864 visit, talked of ‘Garibaldian fever’. The article stated, ‘There is no instance in which the appearance of a public personage in Great Britain, native or foreign, has produced deeper or more universal enthusiasm. Even the loyal demonstrations made on great occasions in honor of Her Majesty, have been surpassed by that in honor of this poor foreigner.’ Queen Victoria agreed, complaining that the Italian received honours ‘usually reserved for Royalty’. (It’s unknown if she was later appeased after having a sponge cake named in her honour.)
Garibaldi was so popular, that in 1865 the new Nottingham Forest football club agreed that the team’s official colour would be ‘Garibaldi red’, named after the ‘Redshirts’ who fought under the general in southern Italy.
As Garibaldi’s popularity in England grew, so did the production of trinkets and homeware that depicted him. Items included ceramic figurines, plates, cups and tankards. He has even used to name pubs, taverns and streets. Today, there are still five pubs and nine streets named after the Italian hero.
Garibaldi, the biscuit
Garibaldi’s most enduring legacy in England, however, was the biscuit that took his name.
The Garibaldi biscuit first appeared in 1861 and was invented by Jonathan Dodgson Carr. You might recognise Carr’s surname from his still-famous water-biscuits. The newly created Garibaldi consisted of two crisp biscuit layers filled with sweet currants.
Peek Frean & Co’s Biscuits advert (1891). Source: WikiMedia Commons
Among biscuit manufacturers Carr was seen as ‘a demi-god’. He took traditional handmade products and transformed them into mass-produced money-makers. He’s credited with producing the first industrial biscuit, ‘the Pearl’, which was probably similar to a rich tea. Carr was also known for his ‘fancy’ biscuits, which came in various shapes and sizes and had exciting names such as Rich Desserts and Small Change Pennies.
Carr created the Garibaldi for Peek Freans, a biscuit making company based in Bermondsey, London. (Peek and Carr would go on to build a new factory together in 1865, which resulted in Bermondsey being nicknamed ‘Biscuit Town’.)
Interestingly, Peek Freans also invented the ‘Creola’ in 1910, which was later renamed the ‘Bourbon’ after the French royal house. The Bourbon empire was one of the powers that Garibaldi successfully defeated to create a unified Italy. In biscuit terms however, it’s safe to say that Bourbons won the popularity war.
How the Garibaldi got its name isn’t so clear.
According to one account, the curranty biscuit was inspired after Garibaldi and his men were forced to soak slices of bread in horse blood and berries after their supplies ran low. Another story says that after Garibaldi took Sicily, he developed a taste for a special kind of bun filled with beef spleen purchased from Antica Focacceria San Francesco, a pastry shop in Palermo. Because of this, people began associating ‘dark-coloured’ treats with the Italian general, eventually transferring this idea to biscuits with currants, raisins, and figs.
It’s most likely, however, that Peek Freans was simply cashing in on one of the period’s most popular figures.
Garibaldi, the legacy
The Garibaldi isn’t everybody’s favourite biscuit. (I love it but I accept that I'm in the minority.)
It’s been described as a ‘great British biscuit’ and ‘lovely after all these years’. But also ‘like someone steam-rollered mouse droppings and stuffed the resultant filth between crackers’ or ‘swept a kitchen floor, cracked an egg into the dustpan and baked the resulting mess into a biscuit the size of a flag’.
I think the Garibaldi’s greatest strength lies in this duality. It’s not a great biscuit, but it’s also not terrible. There always needs to be a last pick from the biscuit tin and Garibaldi, the great unifier, is the best man for the job.
