Betty (and Bert) Bircher
If you've been lucky, you may have noticed a crocheted rug, some lace doilies, a tin of biccies and a slightly out-of-place couple at a festival club.
If you had a seat and a chat, you'd have discovered that Betty Bircher is an expert in the rare art of Biscuit Reading, and that husband Bert is her greatest supporter.
Sure, Tarot is neat and a good palm reader will freak the bejesus out of you, but none are as accurate (or delicious) as a Biscuit Reading.
Betty had her first biscuit flash in the 80s when she realised that her daughter was an Iced VoVo and her power has developed in its sharpness over the years.
She's overcome the Americanisation of some of our most beloved biccies and still reads an original recipe biscuit; never a cookie. (Hey Betty, have you ever met a Bush? )
Getting around to all the artsie festivals was putting a bit of strain on their bedtimes and I'm sure that they must love Masterchef as much as I do and want to stay in as Melbourne gets cold. So they got the grandkids over for some advice and discovered that the Facebook and the YouTube made readings that little bit easier.
So, if you haven't had an in-person reading, Betty will record one for you. It may change your life or leave you free to reveal the true soul that you hide away, or at least make you search behind the couch cushions for enough coins to go to the 24-hour supermarket to buy a packet of biscuits.
Before you jump in, be prepared. Biscuit reading isn't for the faint-hearted. Don't be surprised if you're not the biscuit you expect and, as I quickly learnt, you're probably not your favourite biscuit.
I was terrified of being a Jatz or an Orange Cream and expected that I might be a Tim Tam. However, I like the new-fangled Dark Tim Tams, so I wouldn't have been happy as a milk chocolate biscuit. A Mint Slice maybe?
My real favourite childhood biccy was an exotic treat made by my grandmother's next door neighbour, Murial. She'd take the dull and grown up Milk Coffee biscuit, add a layer of butter and finish with 100s and 1000s (or sugar if she'd run out of tiny coloured balls). No one makes a snack like that anymore.
But my tastes have developed since then. Perhaps I'd be a Ginger Nut or one of those spicy biscuits from IKEA?
If I'd stood in the supermaket and analysed for hours, I would never have guessed what I really am. But Betty was spot on. I'm a Venetian.
(And I think I'm still looking for a Dark Tim Tam.)
If you want to know what you are, Betty and Bert are at thebiscuitreadings.com.
PS. Betty, here's a photo of Indonesian Tim Tams. I have to say that I was quite fond of the wafer Tim Tams and regret not tasting the "Choco Coffee" version.