It's toast and it's scones

Look, I should be talking about my handbags and my shoes - I have lots and they fascinate me - but regrettably my heart has been hijacked by scone toast.

That's it in the photo. It looks like white bread, I know. It isn't. It is plump soft cake-like bread that smells like kind grandmas, fresh ironing and vanilla. It's soft like dough but when you toast it - and you must toast it - it becomes a little firm.

I'm not certain that you could say this product is like scones. There is a spirit of scones to be sure, a certain scone sensibility, but the physical appearance is of bread while the overall impression is that of a shy Madeira cake.

But the pleasure is in the eating. You toast it, butter it (don't none of you start about using butter substitutes: I will abide no butter substitutes) and then smear it with jam, preferably a red one that recalls berries. And then you eat it. The scent and flavour will saturate your palette for hours.

There's nothing more to say. Tomorrow I will bang on endlessly about my Paul Smith tote which at this point in history I am planning to marry.