Jam Sandwich Biscuits

It's the sort of grey afternoon where the rain has settled in for the long haul and there's nothing for it but to put the oven on. The kitchen needs a smell. The kettle goes on first, then the butter comes out of the fridge, and the children, if there are any to hand, start asking when they can do the cutting bit.

I keep a jar of last summer's raspberry jam at the back of the cupboard for exactly this reason. The berries went into the pan in July, when the canes were dripping with them and the kitchen smelled of warm sugar for two days running. Now, in the depths of something that isn't summer, you open the jar and the smell of July comes out with it. There are few better things to do with a jar of good jam than press it between two buttery biscuits and watch a child eat one while still warm, with jam on their chin and absolutely no apology for it.

These are the proper version of what the supermarket calls a Jammie Dodger. Same idea. Better in every way. Real butter, a tender shortbread that melts on the tongue, and a jam that tastes of actual fruit rather than red food colouring. A recipe is a conversation, not a contract, so use whatever jam you've got. Strawberry, blackcurrant, apricot, quince. The market decides, or the cupboard does. We're only making biscuits.

I wrote it down in the notebook the first time I made them with my niece, years ago: "Rain. Biscuits. Jam everywhere. Worth it." That's still the whole recipe, really. The rest is just instructions.