I feel great after last week's juice installment, don't you children? So fit and full of life that I might change over the channel WITHOUT the aid of the remote control! To celebrate this new found vitality and regained self-esteem, I think I'll ingest as much chocolate as I physically can - but with a time-travelling twist! Let's throw caution to the magical wind of time and watch the resulting wind/caution hybrid mutate into scrumptious brown delicacies of yore.
Terry's Bitz - 8/10
Summary: "Young people of Ireland - Greed...is good."
Ah, John Paul II - the first rock'n'roll pope apparently. Remember the Dagmar in Eastenders? Well, if it wasn't a ficticious wine bar for nascent yuppies in the (not) very real borough of Walford in east London (which it was), then it wouldn't not be Terry's Bitz (which it isn't). The black wrapping of Bitz with it's neon light text evoked the seediness of gaudy London nite-spots of the day. You won't find them over there any more but don't worry, we're catching on over here and the atmos and decor of these fine establishments can now be enjoyed in several trendy bars across Ireland.
Fry's Orange Cream - 6/10
Summary: Is it gone? I don't know. It's so dark in here.
Call it bad journalism on my part, but I haven't called into every newsagent on the X and Y axes of this landlocked former Soviet state to make absolutely sure if every last Fry's Orange has been decommissioned. The sinister Fry's Chocolate Cream remains though, defo. But even the mint one was nicer than that! There's divilish mischieviosity afoot. One segment of this is grand but a whole bar is horrifically, nightmarishly sickening, like war. Or so I'm led to believe. But as I've never had first-hand experience of war it's perfectly reasonable for me to conclude that a whole Fry's X Cream is an evil to rival any human conflict in history. Still though, 6/10.
Marathon - 6/10
Summary: Will we ever see it's like again?
"They just don't make 'em like this any more!" as a hysterical (and naked) Father Brian D'arcy remarked recently to the elderly audience at a charity screening of Cannibal Holocaust. He may just as well have been referring to Marathon bars. If the advertising (and indeed its very name) were to be believed, the combination of chocolate, peanuts, nougat and caramel can apparently make you run faster over long distances. That was the kind of bolognese the Mars company were sending out to foolish consumers in the 80's. Historians suggest that the practice was employed before this time, but no written evidence of anything of any kind exists before this decade.
Mars also boldly claimed that their flagship Mars bar improved your ability to complete tasks more efficiently in your place of employment, aided periods of relaxation and assisted you in maximising your allocated time for recreational pursuits. Which was stupid anyway, because "no one had a job in Ireland during the 80's, ha ha" according to my father the late Charles Haughey, subject of the recent RTE documentary "The Lyrics Board". Science intervened and contrary to prior infomercials it transpired that Marathon, Mars and the like actually improved your ability to sit down on your enormous ass, improving your likelihood of being subjected to an increasingly worrying series of spasms, fits and seizures. This effectively banned a product such as Marathon from ever appearing on the shelves again and forced a rethink of the Mars recipe, resulting in the vitamin-packed Nutri-Grain we know and love today. How could the ad men get it so wrong!?
Cadburys Silk - 9/10
Summary: 5 x strawberry creme delights encased, no, ENROBED in chocolate.
Here, I'm knackered after the marathon Marathon review from Mars, so just check the rating above, read the summary and fill in the blanks, asswad. And don't turn around, cos you gonna see my heart breakin'.
Quatro - 5/10
Summary: Similar setup to a 2x4 Dairy Milk-style bar, but on a wacky Revels tip.
If my memory serves me (a pint of Extra-Cold Guinness) correctly, this chocolatey version of Russian roulette had 4 different personalities, namely mint, caramel, orange and strawberry. Years of painful therapy prevent me from trying to recall if it instead contained a coffee centre in place of one of the four above. The chocolate in this deserves a special mention for having the consistency, and to a large extent the taste, of birthday cake candles. Yes - specifically birthday cake ones. The cruel kind that burst into flames repeatedly after being supposedly extinguished by your asthmatic niece.
Twirl - 4/10
Summary: But it's just Flake with a trouser! Exactly.
I may have dreamt this, but lately I'm sure I noticed that the humble Twirdle was re-packaged as Flake Extra Choc or summat. Whether it was dream or reality doesn't matter because either way I noticed, which is all that matters. So Twirls are not posh enough for the clued-in, cosmopolitan 00's Paddy what what? But throw a yellow Flake-affiliated wrapper on them and he'll lap them up won't she? Curly-Wurlys will soon be called "Part-boned duck with horseradish crust, pumpkin coulis and an onion marmalade" if this (possibly non-existent) trend continues!
Time Bar - Infinity/10
Summary: Existentialist concept-candy made of chewy perspex. 8p.
Fittingly, we conclude this sci-fi consumer report with the HGWellsiest of them all - for this was the bar of TIME. Mind-bending to the delicate imagination of a child though it may have been, amusingly it was an absolute pox of a bar. Many's the tooth were lost to the might of Time as it would strike indiscriminately across generations of unsuspecting incisors and wisdoms. As society dumbed down, so too did the world of confectionery and the Time bar morphed into the Dime so as not to blow any more minds. Who decides this shit? It's completely insane and manic. The only word for this combination of insanity and mania is MANITY!
Next week: Issue #5 - Random foodstuff showdown!
Terry's Bitz - 8/10
Summary: "Young people of Ireland - Greed...is good."
Ah, John Paul II - the first rock'n'roll pope apparently. Remember the Dagmar in Eastenders? Well, if it wasn't a ficticious wine bar for nascent yuppies in the (not) very real borough of Walford in east London (which it was), then it wouldn't not be Terry's Bitz (which it isn't). The black wrapping of Bitz with it's neon light text evoked the seediness of gaudy London nite-spots of the day. You won't find them over there any more but don't worry, we're catching on over here and the atmos and decor of these fine establishments can now be enjoyed in several trendy bars across Ireland.
Fry's Orange Cream - 6/10
Summary: Is it gone? I don't know. It's so dark in here.
Call it bad journalism on my part, but I haven't called into every newsagent on the X and Y axes of this landlocked former Soviet state to make absolutely sure if every last Fry's Orange has been decommissioned. The sinister Fry's Chocolate Cream remains though, defo. But even the mint one was nicer than that! There's divilish mischieviosity afoot. One segment of this is grand but a whole bar is horrifically, nightmarishly sickening, like war. Or so I'm led to believe. But as I've never had first-hand experience of war it's perfectly reasonable for me to conclude that a whole Fry's X Cream is an evil to rival any human conflict in history. Still though, 6/10.
Marathon - 6/10
Summary: Will we ever see it's like again?
"They just don't make 'em like this any more!" as a hysterical (and naked) Father Brian D'arcy remarked recently to the elderly audience at a charity screening of Cannibal Holocaust. He may just as well have been referring to Marathon bars. If the advertising (and indeed its very name) were to be believed, the combination of chocolate, peanuts, nougat and caramel can apparently make you run faster over long distances. That was the kind of bolognese the Mars company were sending out to foolish consumers in the 80's. Historians suggest that the practice was employed before this time, but no written evidence of anything of any kind exists before this decade.
Mars also boldly claimed that their flagship Mars bar improved your ability to complete tasks more efficiently in your place of employment, aided periods of relaxation and assisted you in maximising your allocated time for recreational pursuits. Which was stupid anyway, because "no one had a job in Ireland during the 80's, ha ha" according to my father the late Charles Haughey, subject of the recent RTE documentary "The Lyrics Board". Science intervened and contrary to prior infomercials it transpired that Marathon, Mars and the like actually improved your ability to sit down on your enormous ass, improving your likelihood of being subjected to an increasingly worrying series of spasms, fits and seizures. This effectively banned a product such as Marathon from ever appearing on the shelves again and forced a rethink of the Mars recipe, resulting in the vitamin-packed Nutri-Grain we know and love today. How could the ad men get it so wrong!?
Cadburys Silk - 9/10
Summary: 5 x strawberry creme delights encased, no, ENROBED in chocolate.
Here, I'm knackered after the marathon Marathon review from Mars, so just check the rating above, read the summary and fill in the blanks, asswad. And don't turn around, cos you gonna see my heart breakin'.
Quatro - 5/10
Summary: Similar setup to a 2x4 Dairy Milk-style bar, but on a wacky Revels tip.
If my memory serves me (a pint of Extra-Cold Guinness) correctly, this chocolatey version of Russian roulette had 4 different personalities, namely mint, caramel, orange and strawberry. Years of painful therapy prevent me from trying to recall if it instead contained a coffee centre in place of one of the four above. The chocolate in this deserves a special mention for having the consistency, and to a large extent the taste, of birthday cake candles. Yes - specifically birthday cake ones. The cruel kind that burst into flames repeatedly after being supposedly extinguished by your asthmatic niece.
Twirl - 4/10
Summary: But it's just Flake with a trouser! Exactly.
I may have dreamt this, but lately I'm sure I noticed that the humble Twirdle was re-packaged as Flake Extra Choc or summat. Whether it was dream or reality doesn't matter because either way I noticed, which is all that matters. So Twirls are not posh enough for the clued-in, cosmopolitan 00's Paddy what what? But throw a yellow Flake-affiliated wrapper on them and he'll lap them up won't she? Curly-Wurlys will soon be called "Part-boned duck with horseradish crust, pumpkin coulis and an onion marmalade" if this (possibly non-existent) trend continues!
Time Bar - Infinity/10
Summary: Existentialist concept-candy made of chewy perspex. 8p.
Fittingly, we conclude this sci-fi consumer report with the HGWellsiest of them all - for this was the bar of TIME. Mind-bending to the delicate imagination of a child though it may have been, amusingly it was an absolute pox of a bar. Many's the tooth were lost to the might of Time as it would strike indiscriminately across generations of unsuspecting incisors and wisdoms. As society dumbed down, so too did the world of confectionery and the Time bar morphed into the Dime so as not to blow any more minds. Who decides this shit? It's completely insane and manic. The only word for this combination of insanity and mania is MANITY!
Next week: Issue #5 - Random foodstuff showdown!
