One of my colleagues bought me packet of Smarties today. Immediately I was reminded of an article I wrote for my old student magazine, 5XH. So, I thought I’d post it here to recapture some of the old Smarties nostalgia. Enjoy my article…..’Do Smarties Have The Answer’ – originally published in 1999.
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It has been a long-standing tradition that kids eat sweets – and lots of them.
In fact, kids love sweets so much that parents see them as the primary way of pest control, bartering with the child as to how ‘good’ they have to be if they want them. Being a spherically challenged young lad, one of my favourite past times was eating – something I’ve held less commitment too since realising that trouser size was becoming an issue and that planets had started revolving around my gravitational pull. But oh…. for a pack of Smarties I would have done almost anything.
Those little coloured blobs of choc that melted over everything, that left me amazed at the number of pretty colours melted chocolate sweets and youthful hands could make – and allowed me to war paint my younger brother on and off for several carefree years. However, looking back, one thing has bugged me through childhood, adolescence and finally in adulthood – do orange Smarties taste different from the rest?
I have been fighting verbal battles with more people than I care to mention as to whether there is a difference at all. My opinion has always been that there are 9 colours and how ridiculous a concept that only one colour should represent a flavour. ‘It’s purely psychological association’ I would say. ‘The orange ones must provoke some kind of stimulated association between the colour and how the brain thinks it should taste’. ‘Bollocks’ would often be the returning comment. ‘If that’s the case, why don’t the red ones taste of strawberry or tomatoes – you’re full of crap Blair’. Well to be honest, I noticed that the majority of arguments against my case came from my female associates and I was regularly backed by male friends. Was there a connection? Why did a string of Helyn Rose Bar taste tests prove inconclusive?
And why did I really care enough to worry about it? My concern was purely because I wanted to know if I had been brought up in a clouded and sheltered existence, if the orange ones did taste different – why did my parents neglect to give them special attention? Why didn’t they play games and go ‘oooh, its an orange one – who wants the orange one’? My upbringing would be marred by such a basic revelation. I needed the truth.
So, after 21 years of eating Smarties – I went straight to those in the know and contacted Rowntree/Nestle to find out the facts and put my theories that ‘this flavour issue is all bullshit’ to the test. Sat in my office in the Students’ Union, I punched in the number and waited – fumbling a packet in my hands to see whether the ‘e’ numbers gave any clues. A customer service assistant answered. ‘Good morning, Nestle Customer Services – how an I help?’ . ‘Hello there’ said I, ‘could you put me in touch with a PR rep for Smarties?’. ‘Certainly, hold the line’ replied a Yorkshire sounding young maiden. I was transferred.
‘Smarties, Jeff speaking’. ‘Hello Jeff’ I mused, ‘my name’s Andy Blair and I’m calling from Guildford in Surrey. I wonder if you could answer a simple question for me. Do orange Smarties taste different from normal Smarties?.’ ‘ Well Mr Blair, that’s an easy one…………’
The line went dead. The moment that could affect my view on a small piece of my life was paused. A campus wide power cut, knocked out all the phone lines and left me as close to the truth as the evil guy from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade to the Holy Grail. After several hours of waiting, eating lunch, cursing the pre-millennium bug etc.. the phones returned to life and I pursued the matter further. After getting back in contact with the relevant department, I asked the same question to the lady on the end of the line. ‘Well Mr Blair (for the second time), that’s an easy one…….. Yes, the orange ones do taste of orange chocolate.’ My heart sank. My self esteem ruined. My childhood memories now unforgiving for their lack of knowledge.
‘Never – how long have they been like that. I don’t ever remember the taste difference as a kid’. There was a short story to be told and like Augustus Gloop in the Wonka factory, I listened with wonder…. ‘Smarties were introduced in 1937 and are widely accepted as being the most popular sweet in the entire children’s market. Although they are principally a children’s line, it is one of the major confectionery brands and has an extremely strong brand heritage. As well as being guzzled by millions of wanting children all year round, Smarties is one of the biggest selling boxed Easter Eggs and has special Christmas presentations in giant tubes, novelties, over wrapped cartons (like my granddad used to bring down) and in little box selection packs. As I’m sure you’re aware Mr Blair, Smarties are eaten by children, so a large proportion of the buying is done by parents and grandparents who regard them as attractive, well packaged sweets and remember them with nostalgia from their own childhood.
Indeed the size of the brand would suggest that the older generation are clearly prone to more than just remembering Smarties. We also enjoy running promotions, such as White Smarties, Cool Dudes and Greenies.’ At this point I stopped the woman at the end of the phone. ‘So do people often call to ask this question?’ I asked. ‘Not really’ she replied, ‘but over 16,000 Smarties are eaten every minute – about 280 per second in the UK. I don’t think many people really stop to think about it’. ‘Oh they do – believe me’ I replied.
The story continued – this woman knew her stuff. ‘A few more facts for you then Mr Blair – Did you know that if the Smarties eaten in one year were laid end to end it would equal almost 102,000 km and if they were put in tubes and these put end to end it would equal almost 29,000km’? By this time I wanted to knock her down with a functional and smug question that I hoped would restore my confidence. ‘ So why are there letters on the inside of the lid – answer that.’ She did. ‘The letters printed on the tops are to increase the enjoyment that can be derived from Smarties and many children of all ages collect the
lids to spell their names etc.’ She was quite right. I did that.
Damn.
It was now war. I had lost a personal battle and this woman seemed to think she knew it all. Bring it on I thought – I’ll find a question you just don’t know the answer too. ‘Ok, why blue Smarties – it was all just a marketing ploy wasn’t it’. ‘Well’, she confidently uttered, ‘Blue Smarties were originally made in West Germany and were only available in France, West Germany, Italy, Belgium and Holland. Research amongst consumers when Smarties were introduced in these countries indicated that Blue Smarties would be well liked, whereas they were not very popular for the other markets. We are continually reviewing the selection available in the UK and in the past we found that most people here preferred the original eight colour assortment which had been the same since 1937!’
I held my head in my hands. She went on and all I could do was listen – ‘In the 1980’s, research showed that a change might be welcomed and the blue Smarties were made available for a limited period in 1988 to celebrate our 50th birthday. This proved so popular that in 1989, they were introduced in the standard assortment, replacing the light brown Smartie.’ I cried. I cried the tears of a man that had seen the mystery behind his childhood edibles washed away. ‘Well, lets face it’ I said, ‘why bother introducing just a single orange flavour – its ridiculous’. ‘Well Mr Blair…..’ she muttered. I knew what was coming. I held the phone close to my ear, pen in hand and braced myself for another insult to my intelligence. ‘Nestle Rowntree have been marketing Smarties since before the Second World War – originally under the Rowntree name. Prior to 1958 the dark brown sweet had a plain chocolate centre (due to a shortage of milk after the war) and the light brown one was coffee flavoured.’ I almost puked through my nose. ‘Ok – if you are so damn knowledgeable give me a method of extraction for chromatography of colour in Smarties.’ This question had been a plant, organised by a student who had already given me a well groomed argument for the colouring process used in sweet production.
I had scored. The last laugh was mine. My amazing one off display of scientific babble had stunned the young lady into submission. ‘Well Mr Blair……’I broke down. Only read the next bit if you’re a scientist – skip to next paragraph if not… ‘Because of the chemicals involved I would firstly advise you to use eye and hand protection. In order to produce satisfactory results we recommend the minimum number of sweets to be 7 for the pale shades and 4 for the darker shades. The surface colouring is washed off the sweets in 10-25 mls of hot water in a 100ml beaker and the decolourised centres discarded. Boil approximately 1 metre of white wool for 5 minutes in 15 ammonia solution, rinse in cold water and then immerse in the dye extract. Acidify with dilute acetic acid and simmer for 5 minutes. Remove the wool and rise in cold water. Re-extract the dye from the wool by soaking in 10-15 mls 1% Ammonia solution for 5 minutes. Remove the wool and evaporate the dye solution to dryness on a water bath. Add 2 drops of water to dissolve the extracted dyes and spot the solution on a chromatographic paper strip. We recommend that the ascending chromatographic technique be used and for the solvent use a mixture Ethyl Acetate (40 parts), 2- propanol (30 parts) and water (25 parts).This method was established for use on synthetic colours and may not work satisfactorily for riboflavin and cochineal.’
I am a mere uneducated weakling with no hope of securing a victory in this conversation. She had the knowledge – I only had my upbringing to back up what I knew of sugar-coated chocolates. Maybe it was because I eat mouthfuls at a time rather that individual Smarties that I never tasted the orange – who knows. ‘Is there anything I can help you with Mr Blair?’. ‘Um, yeah – tell the government to allow the building of the new Wembley without athletics provision so we can host the World Cup’. ‘Well Mr Blair, did you know that it would take one thousand two hundred and seventy billion, eight hundred and forty six million, six hundred and forty eight thousand, five hundred and sixty Smarties to fill the currently Wembley?’
Suddenly I remembered the advert and chuckled to myself in the face of defeat. It hadn’t just been a clever slogan – Smarties do indeed have all the answers.
