Crunchie

1929 -

Remember Crunchies? Of course you do, amnesia hasn't been fashionable since 2007, everyone remembers all types of stuff these days. Remember postage stamps? Walking? Urinal cakes? Eeeh, remember 'cars'? Yes man, start whinging about the bloody sweets for pity's sake.

Crunchie, then. It used to just come in a bar format but now you can get it in everything - ice cream, yoghurt, Crunchie Rocks, snuff. 'Milk Chocolate with Golden Honeycombed Centre", or posh cinder toffee for the busy modern professional when the Hoppings isn't on. 

Thank Crunchie It's Friday! That was the marketing slogan for a while. What a stinker. Unfortunately I can remember actual people saying it in real life, they were probably the same people who think Chris Evans is "fun". I didn't know then what I know now - that was the first nail in Crunchie's coffin (Crunchie's Coffin was one marketing opportunity they failed to capitalise on - skellington-shaped crunchie in a special box? It would knock the munchers bandy around Hallowe'en time. There's not enough gallows humour in the confectionary world. I blame those Quakers down in Bourneville. That's also why chocolate and beer don't go together, no matter what they think at the Trent House).

Crunchies aren't dead, but they're dead to me. I bought a pack of four at the Tesco Metro on the way home the other night because a) they were the first thing you saw as you walked in and b) they were on special offer at 82p. I would never have considered buying them otherwise, in fact I can't even remember the last time I even thought of a Crunchie until then. I am nothing if not a bit of a tramp, impulsive, but a tramp nonetheless.

The trouble with Crunchie bars is they're a nightmare to eat. The honeycomb bit either jars to bite through or gets hopelessly clagged onto your teeth, or both. This means you regret eating one before you've even got the whole thing down your gullet. And you can't just toothbrush the wreckage off your choppers afterwards either so you're committed to a good half hour off picking it away with your (crossed) fingers hoping you don't take a filling out at the same time. I don't want that from a chocolate bar, teasing a bit of debris off with your tongue is fine, but not a full scale archeological dig - I associate that kind of thing with that hairy wally from Time Time, the male equivalent of Charlie Dimmock one? You don't want those kind of mental images at hand when you're putting things into your mouth.

Status: Zombie

Lookalike: Wispa Gold

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