From penny bazaar to biscuit aisle
Michael Marks established his first penny bazaar stall at Kirkgate Market in Leeds in 1884, using a £5 loan from Leeds warehouse owner Isaac Jowitt Dewhirst. At that stall, Marks used the slogan “Don’t Ask the Price, it’s a Penny”, which is about as direct as retailing gets. Thomas Spencer, born in Skipton, Yorkshire, in 1851, had worked as a bookkeeper for Dewhirst’s wholesale company in Leeds before joining Marks as his business partner in 1894. That early partnership was not about ginger snaps, of course, but it does explain the roots of the name now printed on packets found in British kitchen cupboards, Canadian expat orders, and the occasional emergency tea shelf.
The M&S way of making own label feel familiar
M&S food did not begin at the very start of the business. The company’s early world was market stalls, household goods, and the practical business of selling clearly priced items to ordinary shoppers. Food began to be sold by Marks & Spencer from 1931, and over time the company became known for its own-label approach. For much of the twentieth century, its goods were sold under the St Michael name, introduced in 1927 and registered as a trademark in 1928. By 1950, almost everything sold by Marks & Spencer used the St Michael brand, a detail that will still set off a small bell in the heads of many people who remember labels from drawers, school uniforms, biscuit packets, and Christmas cupboards.
St Michael, M&S, and the packet people recognise now
The St Michael name was dropped in 2000 as part of a wider rebranding, with the food halls becoming M&S Foodhall. That change matters because it explains why older shoppers may remember one label while the modern packet carries another. The ginger snap itself belongs to a much older British biscuit habit: firm, spiced, good with tea, and unbothered by fashion. The M&S version sits inside that own-label tradition rather than claiming a single famous invention moment. Corporate histories often like a neat line from founder to product, but groceries are usually messier than that. Sometimes the important thing is not who first baked a ginger snap, but why this particular packet still feels instantly British.
Why ginger snaps travel well in memory
Ginger snaps have a particular place in the biscuit tin because they are not soft-hearted about it. They snap. They bring warmth, spice, and a bit of bite, which makes them especially useful in cold weather or in houses where the kettle is considered part of the central heating system. For British shoppers in Canada, that matters. A packet like M&S Ginger Snaps can pull up memories of a grandparent’s cupboard, a supermarket run after school, or the slightly ceremonial business of putting biscuits on a plate when someone pops round. In Nova Scotia, Ontario, Alberta, or British Columbia, that little crack of biscuit with a cup of tea can feel oddly precise.
A quiet cupboard classic
There is nothing especially showy about a 250g pack of ginger snaps, and that is part of the appeal. M&S has a long high-street history behind it, from Leeds market beginnings to food halls and own-label shelves, but the biscuit does the actual work. It sits there, crisp and gingery, waiting for the kettle, a lunchbox, or a parcel meant to cheer up someone who misses home more than they let on. If British groceries are sometimes emotional in ways that look ridiculous from the outside, ginger snaps are a fine example. The Great British Shop understands that a familiar packet can do quite a lot without making a fuss.
