Sweet Nothings

A certain association can play tricks with the mind and senses.

I drove past the Nestle Factory in York today and although I am not really sure if they still have a production line for the chocolate goodies on which part of their Empire was built I was convinced that I could smell cocoa, wafer and caramel on the air.

I got a bit lost heading out northwards and passed through New Earswick, a model village founded by the sweet and confectionery manufacturer Joseph Rowntree. Model in this context does not refer to things in miniature but in the laudable intentions of creating a pleasant living and social environment for his workforce but not in the name, he was adamant to state, of charity.

Rowntree, now that is an evocative name first established in a special place in memories of my childhood.

They had a wide and tantalising product range that was willingly subscribed to in small pocket money increments but all adding up to a huge profit over the decades. It was the sheer heritage of the Rowntree or as it was called Rowntree Mackintosh brand that attracted the attentions of the Nestle Corporation in 1988 after a hum-dinger of a battle for control with Jacobs Suchard.

The Rowntree familiars included Rolo's, Smarties, Caramac bars, Quality Street and the Kit Kat. These were iconic items and although still surviving under the new livery they are somehow tainted and diminished.

Ask anyone in the 40 plus age range.

There was nothing more comforting, exciting and satisfying than the purchase of, in my case, a Caramac Bar from Tierneys Sweet Shop in the High Street. First intentions were to break off and suck each of the segments into a soft gooey mass before digestion but this was never an actual achievement for me and the whole thing would be scoffed in one go, on the move on foot or bike and trying not to lose any of the caramel through dribbling, coughing or that unfortunate occurrence of when it inadvertently somehow found its way into the space between eyes and nose before exiting in a most uncomfortable way through the nostrils like a khaki coloured nose bleed.

In each of my subsequent decades I drifted in and out of my secret love affair with the Caramac Bar.

For a time I was heavily into Tunnocks Snowballs, a delicacy from Scotland of a coconut dipped crispy thin chocolate shell around a soft and sticky marshmallow centre. Our local shopkeeper was regularly harassed and harangued by me as his best sweet buying customer to bring back a full box from the wholesalers whenever it was time for him to stock the shelves in his modest village shop. He pleaded amnesia over ever being asked on a couple of occasions when I had spied his car being unloaded after a trip to the Cash and Carry. I helped him unload in case he was just teasing, but often as not he did just forget. When a large bulk box was presented he charged me full retail price for the lot which was a bit mean but then again being an addict for a Tunnocks Snowball even that was cheap at the price in my sugar starved and semi delirious condition.

There has, for many years, been a bit of a standing joke with my friends that if any group activity is planned then you can rely on me to bring the Mars Bars. This arose after the unfortunate discovery, for me, of a dense layer of sweet wrappers in the footwells of my company car. This was regarded as being hilarious by my acquaintances and thereafter the association of me with the mighty Mars Bar stuck.

Other favourites have included mint Aero's, the exotic Bounty, Snickers and Yorkie.

It was just today that I came across a new product from Nestle and their Yorkie research team. On my multiple passings of the factory as a consequence of trying to master the York inner ring road, I did notice the large complex dedicated to product development but it was purely coincidental that I stumbled across their newest offering, giant Yorkie chocolate buttons.

My own experience has for years led me to suspect there to be an opening for a new sphere based chocolate goodie. Cadbury buttons are ok but very unsatisfying. There is currently a designated giant version but this has been put into perspective by the truly awesome Yorkie version. At £1.65 a packet it is a premium product. obviously. The first grasp of the bag from the shelf was disappointing as I had fully expected to fall to the ground under the sheer weight of the advertised product. The packet was light and after feeling around through the foil packaging it was evident that, possibly the number of giant buttons were in single figures.

Yorkie has always been aggressively marketed at us impressionable and fickle males. I am not sure how the Company Lawyers for Nestle have permitted somewhat of a sexist and discriminatory campaign for the Yorkie portfolio particularly as chocolate is often cited as being more pleasurable than sex amongst the females in our midst and lets face it, women know what is good don't they, and about chocolate as well.

The ripping open and reveal of the buttons fulfilled the mantra of the advertising. They were truly solid milk chocolate like a discus, crunchy and sweet yet swift to melt on the tongue and affix to the roof of the mouth. The dessert bowl did nearly crack in half when I poured out the contents. I offered them around the room but only the men present felt that they could take one and do it justice.

So, I have my latest favourite for what I confidently predict to maintain an unassailable position a couple of decades. Well, at least until I have investigated that new confectionery phenomena of the cake pop.