Rusk Appreciation Day

Last Friday, our fellow daycare parents threw a party to recognize the daycare workers during “Teacher Appreciation Week.” The party was held under a white gazebo at a public park out on Chambers Street, and our $20 entry fee per family included pizza, mini cupcakes, and lots of screaming children.

Malcom, a fellow father from Reilly’s classroom (the Bunny Room) mentioned that the only thing missing was beer. I told him that I couldn’t agree more, being that it was 6:30pm on a Friday, and that Reilly was growing fussier by the minute. Also, both Shawn and I had neglected to bring the diaper bag, so we had no backup Cheerios or toys to distract her with. I said as much to Malcolm. He then reached into his bag and said, “Here, why don’t you give her a biscuit.”

I should pause here to say that Malcolm is British, so this sentence was said in a British accent.

Now, you may or may not know that Shawn and I are rather paranoid about the food we give Reilly, fearing allergy (a fear that was confirmed just a few days after this). Yet, in the face of an antsy baby, I acquiesced and gave Reilly the piece of biscuit. She promptly devoured it. What was more shocking is that she ate it without much mess and without choking once.

Since Reilly’s other teething biscuits require a bath after she eats them (should she survive the experience without asphyxiating), I asked Malcom what this magic biscuit was, and he said “Farley’s Rusks.” I told him that I would have to buy some, and asked where I might find a package. He furrowed his brow and told me that he had stocked up on them when he was home in England, since he was unsure if they could be found in the States.

The next day, I fired up the laptop and started my Google search. With the search terms “Farley's Rusks New York City” I was able to locate a store named “Myers of Keswick’s English Shop” located over on Hudson Avenue. Shawn and I buckled up Reilly right away and strolled out to the location, only to find that it was closed. Actually, we couldn’t find it at all. Apparently, the landscape changes so fast in the City, a storefront can change before a website comes down.

Dejected, we walked home on Greenwich Avenue, remembering that there was a British fish n’ chips restaurant and a British clothing store side-by-side a few blocks away. I figured I could inquire there as to where the magical biscuits might be found. When we arrived, I was elated to see that wedged in-between the restaurant and clothing store was a British tea house, complete with select goods for sale in the front window. I went in and asked if they had Farley’s Rusks, and the shopkeeper said, “Sure, large or small?”

So now, every afternoon, Reilly gets to eat a quarter of a biscuit. We have rationed the amount for three good reasons:

1) the biscuit is really a cookie, and is not very nutritious
2) the biscuit too big for Reilly to eat all at once
3) the box of 9 biscuits cost $6.50, and though I’m not a total miser, that strikes me as quite expensive for a box of cookies—even if they are magic.