Grown up food review: Whittaker's K Bar Choolate (lime and raspberry flavours)

Girl
I wanna take you to a K Bar
I wanna take you to a K Bar
I wanna take you to a K Bar
K Bar
K Bar

Not my words, but the words of early 2000s disco rock band Electric Six, slightly re-interpreted by myself. And words which, perhaps, would have made a better announcement of the forthcoming release of Whittaker's K-Bar flavoured chocolate than the image they did use.

About this time they realised it was lucky they hadn't exclusively used white chocolate

That's right, though, Whittaker's have taken the nostalgic tooth breaking toffee, made it a little softer, and encased it in their dark and milk chocolate. Not all their flavours, mind. After much trial and error, Whittaker's have chosen, apparently, the 'best ' three flavours, a deeply subjective, some would say wrong, selection of raspberry, lime and pineapple. I used to be a big fan of the blackcurrant flavour, however I was then exposed to other taste sensations, and realised that orange is the new blackcurrant.

Anyway, the big release date is tomorrow morning. But because my local supermarket is cool/slightly incompetent, I've managed to score a couple of bars, purely for research purposes. So behold, the first review of Whittaker's K Bar chocolate.

So new they're still using the Jellytip chocolate stands

The first bar is lime in milk chocolate. I'm a big lime fan: sliced in Corona, garnishing a gin and tonic, or mixed with lemon and vodka, all perfect tastes, so I was pretty amped for this. Whittaker's are renowned for their milk chocolate. Even Nigella Lawson endorses it, and she knows a thing or two about addictive substances. So I was hopeful that the two would complement each other perfectly.

Unfortunately, the creamy milk chocolate all but obliterates any tangy limey zest. Sure, if you break the chocolate open and lick the gooey centre out, the citrus flavours are there, but unless you have a very small tongue, you're going to have difficulty. So on the whole, this ain't really a bar of chocolate I'd go out of my way to buy. As chance would have it, I didn't actually have to go out of my way to buy this: the stand was between the fruit aisle and the meat, but to be honest I would probably go out of my way in order to buy a more exciting flavour, or a bar of milk chocolate without an indiscernible goo in the middle.

Raspberry in dark chocolate, however, is where the magic lies. The flavours complement perfectly, the bitter 72% cacao set perfectly against sweet berry flavours. Biting it in half, the bright pink filling even resembles what I can only imagine genuine unicorn snot to look and taste like, pure fantasy (the dreamlike sensation, not the drug). Does it taste of real raspberries? Of course not, but you're hardly eating this for your five plus a day, are you?

Mmmmmm..... Sweet, delicious unicorn snot, right there

I didn't buy the pineapple flavoured bar. I don't really trust a fruit that looks like it should be hanging off a tree, but in fact grows on some long spikey grass. Maybe another time.

Behold, the origin story of the internet's most controversial fruit

So there's your first Whittaker's K Bar review. Buy the raspberry flavour, give the other two a miss. Maybe we'll get the orange and blackcurrant flavours soon. Or maybe we'll get another Nigella inspired collaboration with Coke.

Heinz Organic apple, guava and berry porridge

I know, I'd promised no more fruit flavours, but dinner was underway by the time I was home from work today, and frankly I had kinda been looking forward to this one. Heinz Organic is advertised on Wattie's website as being like their premium organic range, but TRICKY... Closer inspection of the jar reveals that, actually, this product is made in Australia from local and important ingredients... So, save the planet by eating organic, but destroy it again with baby FOODMILES! Scandalous!

It's actually been a couple of days since I last ate a puréed food, my last attempt being the frankly disastrous Wattie's green peas and courgette, so I was eager to get back in. This is the first of several foods in the pantry containing cereals or grains. My only grain experience so far being the totally anonymous quinoa offering last week, I was keen to see if a less wanky, preposterous cereal would make more of an impact. Oats have been described previously as having mysterious cholesterol lowering properties, so surely they're pretty super too?

Contains: Fruit (Apples (77%), Pink Guava (6%), Blueberries (2.4%), Blackberries (2.4%), Raspberries (2.4%)), Cooked oats (8%), Oatmeal

I'm going to call it before eating, the guava is not in this for flavour, but similar to the quinoa, is present as a wanky middle-class enticing status ingredient. I'm not sure I've ever seen a guava in my local supermarket, much less eaten one, but I reckon you could get a similar flavour out of this with an extra 6 percent apple. 

Similarly to Only Organic, Heinz Organic put an asterisk next to each of their ingredients sourced organically. In a point of difference, however, every ingredient in this Heinz Organic product has an asterisk next to it, somewhat ironic given the Only Organic name. More ironic than rain on your wedding day.

First impression: This is not a purée, it is labelled as a mash. I think that means it is allowed to have lumps in it. This food is a deep pink in colour. Now, as I said, I'm not a guava expert, and judging by the picture on the jar, this pink MAY JUST be the colour of guava, but I'm sure a similar colour could also have been made using a combination of the apples and raspberries within. Still, a fun looking colour to ingest, and the small lumpy oaty nuggets promised an exciting in-mouth experience was forthcoming.

Emily's reaction: As I write this, Emily is doing her best to loudly wake the fish that lies motionless at the bottom of our fish tank. It is surprising, therefor to know that not half an hour ago, she was lunging hingrily at the spoon from which I was attempting to taste this food. This was by some distance the biggest jar of food we had attempted to feed Emily, by the time I got home from work it was mostly empty. I'm unsure whether the guava was apparent to Emily, however.

Bouquet: Three elements predominate on the nose. First off, not surprising considering the 77 percent content, apple tones delicately dance their way through the turbinates and towards the olfactory nerve head. These are followed by generous hints of both banana and raspberry, pleasant and sweet, and enticing. I don't know what a guava smells like, I assume it's not present though.

Taste test: I had expected the soggy, soft, mushed oat sensation to be unpleasant before tasting, but I was in for a surprise. The nuggets clusters complemented the finally granular texture of the overall food substrate devinely, and proved not offensive at all. It came as something of a shock, considering the heaviness of the bouquet and the content in the ingredients list, that apple was not the predominant taste in this food. Indeed, berry tones took charge upon the buds: black, blue and rasp, with delicate currant flavours pirouetting around the back of the palate. The overall sensation in the mouth was indulgent. Perhaps a slight improvement would be made by adding some morsels of stewed apple or a similar fruit, but it would be too easy to be over critical of this food.

The guava, however, seemed once again absent from the experience. I am beginning to suspect that my belief it is to fruit what quinoa is to grains is confirmed. However, in that case, oats must be to cereals, as the humble apple is to fruit based baby foods. Somewhat ironic. Like finding a thousand knives when all you need is a spoon to eat this delicious offering.

Overall: 8/10. Being a predominantly fruit based mash, this was always going to score highly. Perhaps could have scored higher still had it ditched the guava in favour of more berries.

Enjoy: Spread on buttered fruit toast, with a cup of strong English breakfast tea.