Baker Boys Coconut cake slice

First off, sorry for the following image. I'm afraid the package was far from easy to photo!

I'm sure all of us can remember the jam and coconut sponge squares served up at school dinners. If you don’t, I fear you missed out on one of the pleasures of early childhood and, as an unusual child, I would show my affection (and hopefully turn a few stomachs!) by referring to it as Blood and Dandruff cake.

To my recollection I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a pre-packed interpretation and so it came with great pleasure and surprise to see this offering from Baker Boys, who were responsible for a previously noted and delightfully nostalgic carrot cake.

This Coconut cake slice once again came in a sizeable serving and once extracted from its wrapper, I bit in with anticipation but disappointingly was let down. A light moist sponge, similar in texture to a muffin, gave way easily but had little flavour and seeming being ephemeral in the mouth. Worst was the jam and coconut topping, which could equally be described as a bland sticky substance topped with white flakes that apparently was desiccated coconut. These two aspects had no distinctive element or taste and seemed to exist only for aesthetics, whilst I presumed also that their aroma would be evident, yet there was only the slightest trace of stale brioche.

I was compelled to eat the whole thing believing it would sate my appetite, however the sponge is so fluffy and obviously processed that it solved nothing. To cap it off, the amalgamation of emulsifiers, preservatives and raising agents left distinct a coating in my mouth for a good 10 minutes after. Horrible.

Perhaps a little vanilla in the sponge, and a better quality, single fruit jam (Raspberry is the obvious option) would help all these woes, but its seems that Baker Boys try to mask the problems by instead providing a extravagant serving.

Leave it in the past, or save money by cooking your own!

Quordon muffin Co. Jam Roly Poly muffin

Having been largely disappointed by these Quordon Mufins, I wasn’t anticipating any major amendments in the quality of this Jam Roly-Poly muffin. I made a mistake. I opened the packet, and a sweet vanilla aroma wafted forward. Tempting me in, the muffin broke into my mouth with the aforementioned moist, springy texture and a hit of vanilla flavour came from the crumb, before the pocket of jam burst into my mouth and added a subtle natural fruitiness that complimented the sponge to good effect.

Neither aspect was dominant, and fused together in my mouth to give a really satisfying translation of the pudding, and captured its pleasurable qualities in an alternate form.

Gu 2 Anytime Chocolate Hazelnut Squares

I can often be found lurking in assorted convenience stores, attempting to source munchies that are little seen or heard about nut like any member of a glorious capitalist society, I am also known to shop in Tesco’s.

It was during one particular shopping trip that I stumbled onto these Gu cake treats positioned as an impulse buy (obviously working upon me) at the end of an isle, and of course in it went to my basket. Essentially, these are a tweak on a Millionaire Shortbread, with a biscuit base topped with a consecutive layer of caramel and, in this case, dark chocolate and hazelnuts.

This, of course, was not made clear in the name upon pack, which is as non-committal and indistinct as beige, but my eyes, and of course mouth, do not deceive me. Inside was what appeared to be a single bar sliced apart into three ‘nibbles’, perfectly sized to savour as a decadent whole. The initial taste is of the salty, soft chocolate biscuit base and hazels on top, which with first bite tastes just like the hazelnut Maryland cookies. Once I started to register the subtle nuttiness, the caramel flavour develops and finishes off with a sweet burst that in turn is restrained by woody nuts and the darker chocolate alongside it

I really enjoyed this, but as with Marylands, I found myself desiring more the moment my mouth is empty, so perhaps three in a pack is a cunning way to get me to spend my money, or keep my waistline in check. Either way, I find it a sad reflection of the times when the modifier ‘millionaire’s’ is diminished as superlative, since here Gu have wrapped an exquisite example up in a horribly contrived name.

Margaret's Country Kitchen Bakewell Tart

There is a newsagents a that I often drift into whenever I pass through the my nearest train station, and they often stock items I rarely see elsewhere. After one particular recent expedition to Another Place, I stopped by and found this tart to satisfy both curiosity and my calorific needs.

As I have already mentioned, any Bakewell themed foodstuff immediately catches my eye, and so I tucked in with little awareness of the brand or reasonable grounds for expectations. The fondant iced topping had deposited its sweet smell through the plastic wrap, an odour that was undemanding and old fashioned, and like-wise tasted like any plain icing sugar and water mix. A glowing glace cherry in the centre completed the expected aesthetic. The pastry case is disappointingly tasteless recalling any number of indistinct, slightly cloying industrial pastry items. Pastry is rarely done well in ready made items, and like those it was cloying and heavy. YUM!

Getting inside the almond sponge was simple and offered a denser contrast (the only time a dense sponge has been a positive) to the damp outer pastry. Light nuttiness played off the sweetness of the icing and jam adequately, and made it rather satisfying, appealing to the lowest common denominator. The jam, a mix of several fruits, actually had a influence to flavour, even tough it was slither of its entirety. So hardly jam-packed, but enough to give it an agreeable sweet fruitiness.

Its hard to really review things like this, since they appeal to the childhood memories and take on the appropriate nostalgic denotations. Therefore I was distinctly unimpressed by this, yet I also found myself contrastingly enjoying it. I felt it was a classically generic cake, the type of product a nice granny would offer alongside a sugary, milky cup of tea if she was extremely fond of you. Good times eh?

Quordon Muffin Co. Sticky Toffee muffin

First off today, sorry for being away so long, its been a long, hard fortnight at work which had forced me to take a momentary brake from blogging. Now on more important things, I have returned to Quordon muffins and the limited edition puddings range for this latest taste test.

My hopes with these muffins have diminished proportionately with each one I have tried, so came to this one with a slight hesitancy and low expectations. The texture again had a denser consistency, which, with its moistness, gave the muffin a delightful gooeyness and decadence that was really appropriate, and befitting of the conceptual flavour. The warmth of pudding captured in the rich aroma, but lacked the buttery essence. Biting in, it had rather one-dimensional toffee taste that’s pleasant but has no depth or development. Sweet but without the necessary creaminess, and a lack of the essential dates gave it an experience that was closer to a synthetic confectionary rather than what it aspired to.

Essentially, it captures the generic mass produced taste of Sticky Toffee pudding, but finally one of this Quordon range actually has a stronger flavour. With these desserts being such an integral part of our British food heritage, it would be preferable if a little more care and attention was taken in with these mass produced ‘interpretations’. For Shame again.

Thorntons Cloudy Lemonade

In a change from the norm, I felt this block was worthy of a review feature for few different reasons. Thorntons are celebrating their 100^th anniversary and are currently having a really hard time of it. Seeing as this was one of the anniversary products, and that a little bit of support for the old dog wouldn’t go amiss, I upgraded this to review status!

The bar comes in a 100g square block, which is packaged inside foil and this minimalist box. It looks neat on the shelves and when opened up allows the chocolate to be appreciated at its optimum. A combination of white chocolate, lemon oil and popping candy is used to emulate a classic Lemonade drink, and even though not one of the constituents are particularly favourable to me, I was mightily impressed with its execution.

Popping candy is a divisive inclusion, but I felt that it was both well implemented and befitting of the bars concept, and the creamy feel of the white choc was similar to the thicker texture of cloudy artisan lemonade. A light lemon smell had come from the bar, and the citrus flavour was balanced well, and without the poor cheesiness I have experienced elsewhere.

So why are Thorntons in trouble? They clearly can make some fine chocolate, give them a hand and buy a bar (or two!).

Mrs Crimbles Giant Chocolate Macaroon

I will get it out of the way now; I’m not very familiar with macaroons so my opinion is a shot in the dark really! I’ve been trying a variety of wheat and/or gluten free foods recently out of curiosity initiated by a friend who is intolerant to such stuff and having seen these often in supermarkets, I bought it to taste.

The first thing I noticed was its substantial weight, and its neat star shape. The macaroon itself is soft and gooey, with a crisper crust and moist inner portion. The sweetened coconut is the primary taste, and the vanilla that is also evident pleasantly smoothes it off.

The chocolate meanwhile is very subtle, and when separated away tastes rather poor and nasty. It’s clearly not meant to be appreciated on its own, but rather, in this combination it surprisingly helps augment the other constituents of the macaroon, and becomes harmlessly agreeable.

One must note that the product is very rich on belly, and high in fat (well it is coconut Fool!), so don’t expect a light snack. I found it to be a pleasant luxury that can be enjoyed even if one can consume wheat and gluten, and so my explorations in to local free-from isles will continue!

Quordon Muffin Co. Spotted Dick muffin

On the back of my recent review of Quordon’s Apple and Custard limited edition, I decided to have a go at their Spotted dick variant. I have a tendency to be a bit wordy so here’ something a little more economic: swap apple with sultana and you have your review.

Really.

Kettle Chips Sweet Chilli and Sour Cream Crisps

When Kettle chips broke onto the market, they took a crunch out of the field dominated by Walkers, Golden Wonder and Tayto, (even I have to say these crisp puns are tenuous!) offering a new product for the previously un-catered for gourmet crisp muncher (this was Britain in the 90’s I remind you).

Sea Salt and Balsamic Vinegar was one of their early variations, likewise the idea of sweet chilli flavour is thanks to the likes of them, and both have since become staple flavours in our collective junk food diets.

This one in particular was revised about a year ago and incorporated the additional flavour of sour cream to the base of Sweet Chilli, and as far as I’m concerned it’s a twist on a now common flavour, but a twist that is only in part successful.

The old chilli crisps had a warm, slightly acerbic heat but with a cunning sweetness that negated the objections of a sensitive palate and pulled you back for more. It allowed both characteristics to be appreciated fully, but now the sour cream has rounded out the flavour, making it appeal to more of ones tastes but diminishes their character on the overall flavour. The resultant crisp has tamed what little threat their once was, and obscured the previous merits, however it adds a new enjoyable creaminess that is none the less worthwhile. The smell also shares this feature, but I consider, unlike its onion or chive counterparts, the sweet chilli to be too submissive and never really matching up to the role.

Looking back at the packet, I feel the sour cream sub-title should have equal billing since it now shares the taste sensation, but as far as creamy, slightly warm crisps go, these aren’t too bad at all.

Cathedral City with Pickle snack pot

Cheese and pickle is a classic combination, so what happens when the two best selling brands in their respective categories are combined into a single-serve pot? This. Cathedral cheddar, if you are unfamiliar with it, is creamy and easily palatable, although I do prefer a stronger cheese, whilst the Branston here tasted oddly more acidic than normally. Although it does tend to be a somewhat acidic preserve anyway, the pot didn’t seem to have some of the flavour development that mellows out the sharpness but none the less it was a typical Branston pickle, with substantial chunks and satisfactory serve size for the 5 sticks of cheese.

This always was a safe bet, and one that you can’t help but always know exactly what to expect.

Blackfriars Bakewell Flapjack

I was strolling around my local Holland & Barratt store, and came across Blackfriars cake range, something my brother had eaten for a phase in his teens. Only previously eaten these on the rarest of occasions, I picked up a Bakewell Flapjack to give them another go.

Bakewell tarts/pies (I won’t get into that) are a real treat for me, and I seem to have a weak spot for those good old retro cakes, so the mix of flapjacks and Bakewells (see what I did there?) got me all tempted. Grabbing the bar I was impressed by the weight, coming in at 100g, and opened the pack to a sweet almond odour. Sometimes almonds can smell off putting, but here it was employed successfully and built up a high level of expectation. But this didn’t quite meet those The ‘iced’ topping was rather plane on its own, but added a necessary texture change to the oat bar beneath, which was dense and more greasy rather than buttery. The taste was dominated by that almond element, and was at the very limit of edible as a result of the heavy use of almond essence. Luckily I like almonds but they really are not to everyone’s taste so a quick warning!

Very little influence came from the fruit jam layer between the bar and topping (acknowledged as ‘white chocolate flavour’), and so seemed a bit pointless. But I ate it any way.

And then I was done. Wow, these are more than ample! Any appetite was crushed and stayed away for most of the rest of the day, but I was left feeling that the bar (and also the rest of range which is quite extensive) tried to create interesting variations whilst overlooking some obvious flaws in its fundamental flapjack.

Walkers Tomato Ketchup Crisps

Tomato Ketchup crisps are such an obvious concoction when considered, as like salt and vinegar, the combination is regularly indulged upon dinner tables and in take-aways throughout the world. It seems far more natural than the oddly similar prawn cocktail certainly, so I can’t help but wonder why there are not more available?

Walkers Tomato Ketchup flavour crisps also seem to suffer from the lack of marketing interest and are no longer Heinz branded, but I feel they demand more attention than what they get. When I was younger I would regularly enjoy these alongside the defunct Marmite variety, but they both have long side lost the shelf space they seemed to previously command and these I now rarely see. Having tracked a bag down, I was eager to find out whether my fond memories as greedy little child were perhaps misinformed, and tucked in quickly!

I always compared the smell of the crisps to that of a bottle of ketchup on a warm day, or in a temperate greasy spoon, and found the recognisable aroma still occupying the bag.

They have a slight spicy, sweet tomato taste with the important hint of vinegar that gives them a slight edge. I do feel typical Walkers crisps are relatively thin in comparison to more prestige brands and although this allows the flavour to distribute well, it misses out on the potential of a quality spud. Saying that, they are as good as I remember and just wish they were more readily available!

Quordon Muffin Co. Apple and Custard muffin

The recent trend in ‘Classic British’ style products has filled our shelves’ with everything from designer brand Union jack t-shirts to Royalist tat, most likely thanks in-no-small part to Wills and Kate‘s wedding, the growing hype for the 2012 London Olympics and a bunch of old Etonians in being back government (not that I can comment on politics, after all I blog about junk food). Those associated quaint habits have clearly influenced recent product innovations, attempting to capture (re: cash in) the spirit of both “the good old days” and the national psyche.

I don’t really mind this, so long as there’s a bit of humour and some irony is involved, and this creation is pleasingly perverse as it combines an American –style Muffin with a classic British pudding of stewed Apple and Custard. The packet highlights the concept with the bold union jack colour scheme and London-road sign label proclaiming the ‘Best of British’

With suggestions for it to be eaten either warm or stright from the pack, I chose the latter option.Taking the cake from the wrapper, I was met by the combined aromas of the baked product with a subtle light ‘apple’, and distinctly reminded me of the apple flavour Nutri-grains.

I found it very soft and moist, and thankfully free of that clingy cream of tartar mouth feel that can tarnish commercial bakery products. However, its taste didn’t emphasise either the apple or custard greatly, and only had a subtle suggestion of the fruit coming with the small pieces in the muffin itself. The custard filling felt lost, due to the moist softness of the surrounding muffin and its comparative viscosity. In fact, if I tried to serve similar, I would get an ear-full that it doesn't constitute a liquid. But I digress.

The pleasingly substantial size along with the delightfully soft light texture and mouth feel made it an enjoyable experience, but I was left underwhelmed by the flavour. If it was slightly better developed and had a greater influence Quordon could really be on to something with these re-imagined classics.

Fabulous Bakin' Boys Honey and Fruit Flapjack

I grabbed this at a half price discount, and having eaten (and been impressed by) the regular Fabulous Bakin’ Boys Flapjack variety before I had high hopes for this Honey and Fruit version.

Tucking in, I was aware at how gooey it was in my hands, with a moist and slightly sticky (in a good way) crumb. The buttery aroma and familiar rich oaty taste were both evident, but surprisingly the fruit, seeds and honey, (which should be making it distinct) seemed to lack any contribution to the flavour. A few more bites in, and I could begin to sense a honey-ish hint and could notice a small textural change with the other embellishments, but they didn’t contribute much else.

The fantastic flapjack at the core of the product dominated the other aspects of it, and was enjoyable for that alone. Its just a real shame the additional constituents were not as successful.

Needler's Turkish Delight

Needler’s are brand that I wasn’t terribly familiar with (only knowing the name from ‘caramel cups’ tubs in sweet shop) so when I picked this up, I felt I'd better check out a little background information. But, it seems like even the totalitarian grip of Google cant offer up much about the company… And after a few miss directed searches, I discovered they were founded in the 1890’s, and are now owned by Ashbury chocolates, the manufactures of many supermarket own brand chocolates (and infamously criticised by Gordon Ramsey, even though the chocolates that bear his name are also produced by them). But I tried to put this aside, and consider the bar on its own merits, whatever they may be…

The bar featured several blocks of rose Turkish delight encased in chocolate. This outside layer looked similar to Bournville chocolate, with a semi dark colour and a claimed 30 percent cocoa mass (min). Whilst Bournville is far from gourmet, it sadly turned out to be several paces ahead of this. The greasy low quality chocolate had a lack of melt and split like warm chocolate, with little snap. I initially thought of the uneasy melt-free texture of U.S chocolate, and upon inspection I noticed the bar is exported to the hot climate of Australia. At least I knew the bar didn’t intentionally mean to offend!

The filling though had no such excuse, and was lacklustre in its contribution to the bar. A synthetic composition meant there were none of the floral perfumes associated with authentic Turkish delight, and was in truth, rather bland. In fact, that seems to be the best way to sum the entire experience up, not offensive, but entirely forgettable.

Ambrosia Crumble Puds- Rhubarb compote variety

Ambrosia! The food of gods and which bestows immortality. Crumble, the humble dessert with origins in Second World War rationing. And Custard, the ultimate comfort food, and the perfect addition to a British pud. All in one pot?!?! Giggle J

Right, got that out of my system. These Ambrosia custard duo pots (which sadly don’t give immortality, and to the best of my knowledge, were never eaten by Greek gods) arrived on shelves about 12 months ago, and feature a single tub of ‘crumble pieces’ with a second, larger serving of fruit compote and custard. Initially, opening up the lid, I was immediately aware of a sweet Rhubarb smell emanating from inside, and interestingly taken by the presentation. The dessert was effectively deconstructed, with the fruit compote layered beneath the custard, and had a separate crumble portion, which was to be sprinkled (or tipped if desired!) on top. This interactive element with the classic constituents of the pudding made, for me, the experience of eating all the more enjoyable.

I won't bore you with my opinions on Ambrosia brand custard, but it is a vibrant yellow fast-track to creamy diabetic shock...

The compote was remarkably sweet for Rhubarb, but was pleasingly natural in taste and odour. Its position under the custard still allowed its full flavour to be appreciated, and complemented the creamy Ambrosia perfectly. The Crumble meanwhile, was slightly salty and remarkably similar to digestive biscuits. Although very tasty and moreish, it’s not a proper crumble topping, which I always think should soften in the mouth into a rich, and buttery mix.

Aditionally, the pieces were displeasingly uniform in shape, in fact they were closer to animal feed pellets than the knobbly pieces of goodness a homemade Crumble would have, and as a result I had a unappetising associations with them even before they graced my mouth.

Whilst I may appear to not like certain elements, it is a pleasurable (if sweet) pudding, and although not the most sophisticated or accurate, it is a good mass-market interpretation that will satisfy most.

In a Word and a Number... Disassembled [74]

Baker Boys Carrot Cake Slice

The prospect of Carrot cake has, for much of my life, been an alluring one, and, as Britain increasingly aspired to be vindicated as a nation of foodies, the humble carrot cake of my childhood has become a far more sophisticated item. With the addition of nuts, Pineapple, and Passion fruit, amongst a variety of other potential ingredients, it now is often seen in a far more exotic guise.

And it was, with a slight degree of trepidation, that I approached this (sizeable) slice of cake. With a label that seems not to have altered in the past 20 years (an unintentionally apt throwback!), and the cornrow topping, I had a mental idea of what this would taste like.

I was swept up in nostalgia. Its enormity made me feel six years old, when everything was preposterously oversized, Lifting (anchoring) the wedge from its plastic coffin, curiosity got a hold of me and I couldn’t resist the temptation of finding out quite how hefty it was. Impressively, it weighed in a little under 170g!

Taking a fork to it (I was trying to maintain my limited dignity, you must understand!), I first noticed the combined aroma of carrot and the sweet cream cheese, before devouring the chunk. The spongy texture was similar to Mr Kipling slices but was surprised that it was a little on the dry side since the carrot pieces were clearly visible (and a the perfect size). The topping had a smooth consistency, and none of the grittiness of poorly mixed sugar. Thankfully, this meant it was not overly sweet but was lacking in any strong spice element, a real hindrance since there were none of the additional flavours mentioned above. As a result it seemed very much like the cake of my childhood, and something I enjoyed as though meeting an old friend.

Generic in the best possible sense, this is not a cake for gourmets. Rather, it appeals to those of us who remember carrot cake as a rather uncomplicated symbol of simpler times. My advice, if the cake still sounds appealing, is to use it as a comfort aid reserved for when you want to be wrapped in a duvet and protected from the harsh world.

In a Word and a Number... Nostalgic [70]