There's a place in Victoria called Ouyen where they have an annual Vanilla Slice day. Apparently judging is an onerous task as by the end of the day many snot blocks as they are known have been consumed and may not be consumed again for a long while. Maybe about a year.
We don't have a vanilla slice day here, we don't even have a silo kick competition like Mirool though there was talk of erecting a Ray Warren Statue (sigh). We do however now have a grower's market once a month which is tres exciting. I've gone all french because the french baker (who does make french bread but also happens to be french) is there and I make sure I stock up on bread and croissants. Lately his range has expanded (like my waist measurements) to include tarts and yesterday there were some delectable Mille feuille aka Vanilla Slice, though no one would ever dare to call it a snot block.
Jack and I polished one off last night, with Jack eating the icing component and me tidying up what remained (ahhh custard or should I say creme patissiere).
The french baker is also making these little brioche men and Jack was very excited about his, particularly the head.