By George is a cookie house in Cape Town. It is run by a husband and wife, and it exists because of an argument they had been having for about ten years.
Kate has been making delicious things for twenty years. Jonno spent a decade in the diet industry, convincing people not to eat them. They are married, which made dinner complicated.
At some point the argument resolved itself. Nobody ever needed saving from a cookie. What people needed was a better one — smaller, more serious, made properly, and sized so that eating the whole thing was the intended outcome rather than a lapse.
So that is what the house makes. A cookie seven centimetres across, built in three parts: a crisp shell, a set filling, and a disc of tempered chocolate pressed with the house mark to seal it. Every flavour is made in the kitchen from scratch. Where one reminds you of something — a drink from childhood, a pudding, a thing from a tin — that is on purpose, and it is ours.
Each cookie is for one person. It is not for sharing. This is not meanness; it is the design. A large cookie is an object you negotiate over. A small one is a decision you make alone.
The box holds the whole range, one of each, in the order they should be eaten. It comes with a card that tells you the order. The card is not decoration.
We are in Cape Town. We deliver across South Africa. We do not do anything else yet, and we are in no hurry.
Obscenely good cookies. Be a little naughty.