I tried five iconic British sweets – one was so foul I spat it out

Although both of my parents were born in England, and I spent the first two years of my life here, there are a whole host of sweets I have never tried as I grew up on the other side of the world in

In March last year, at the age of 28, I moved back to England and based myself in . Since then, I have embarked on a cultural awakening, trying English breakfasts, , ,  and now sweets. 

While my sweet tooth has never extended to chocolate, as my previous taste test of British chocolates proved, I have always loved a sweet – or lolly, as I would call it. 

However, there are some in this batch  I tried that I would be happy to never see again as long as I live. 

Below are my honest opinions on each sweet I tried, in the order I tried them. All are scored on smell, texture and taste, with a palette-cleansing water in between. 

Rhubarb and custard – 9/10

Previous taste tests have taught me that smell is the first sign of something going wrong. If there’s a discernible scent, you’re likely about to experience something unpleasant, so the lack of smell on these little pink and yellow sweets was pleasing.

I popped one into my mouth and was immediately happy. It’s been rare to actually try something I like on these taste tests, so I was pleasantly surprised by the well-rounded flavour profile of these treats. They were just the right balance of sweet, tart, and creamy, and I loved flipping them in my mouth to taste each side individually.

The texture was slightly less good. I am familiar with boiled sweets and their tooth-breaking ability, so I was hesitant to bite down. Duty persisted, and I bit down. Just as I expected, it was similar to shattering a tooth but slightly less painful.

For the first time, the first thing I tasted was the one I kept coming back to. 

Humbugs – 0/10

Imagine my fear when I breathed in the stale smell of a retirement home when I put this strange brown striped candy to my nose. The aroma of medicine washed over me, and I imagined myself in a hospital waiting room. Perhaps I will be there soon if I don’t learn moderation and stop putting my hand up for these taste tests.

The texture was odd; they were slightly sticky on the fingers, so my apologies to whoever uses this keyboard after me. I popped the sweet in my mouth and, this time was instantly transported back to being 18 when I would half-smoke a menthol cigarette and then relight it later. Oh, to be young and stupid. But there was no pleasure in this nostalgia and the aftertaste of spoilt cream chased this smokey daydream relentlessly around my mouth. When I exhaled through my nose, it was cold.

I spat the Humbug out. Do with that what you will. The aftertaste was so strong I had to have another Rhubarb and Custard to chase it out. 

Sugar mouse – 2/10

Much like the rhubarb and custard, sugar mice don’t smell like anything, which had me breathing a sigh of relief. They’re peculiar little things with cotton string tails and a cute little face scribbled on them. However, the texture led me to believe I might not enjoy them. It was tough but also grainy. I was thrust into a moral quandary as to where to bite first.

The cotton string felt weird to chow down on, but so did its sweet little face, so I opted for the neutral zone of the side of its torso. 

The texture was, tragically, not good. I really wanted to like these because they were so cute, but their gritty fondant texture put my teeth on edge. Sadly, the flavour wasn’t great either, like a cross between flowery lemons and potpourri. At this point, I felt I was getting a sugar rush, and eating a lump of congealed sugar wasn’t helping.

Sugar mice, despite being extremely cute, get a 2/10. It just goes to show looks aren’t everything. 

Kola Cubes – 6/10

At this point I was getting worried that none of these sweets smelled like anything so I brought in a coworker to check that there was definitely no scent and I wasn’t going mad. She agreed, no smell whatsoever. 

These little cubes looked soft, so imagine my surprise when a gentle squeeze proved they had no give at all. When I placed the cube into my mouth, I was worried to realise there was no taste either – just the grit of sugar on my tongue. 

My first bite was a shock, too—instead of squishing, it splintered like a boiled sweet and made me jump. However, this is where the taste flooded out—like cherry cola and sugar. From here, the Kola cubes became a gelatinous mass that I swallowed whole and only slightly choked on. Overall, they get a 6/10, and I’d probably try another one if it was offered to me. 

Jelly Babies – 3/10

The home stretch. We’re almost there. Again, no smell, not even the talcum powder-esque coating. The texture was reminiscent of the sugar mice, albeit with more squish to it. When I squeezed it, cracks appeared and the talcum coating reminded me of chalk, which made me shiver. 

The first Jelly Baby I sampled was a red one, which I had been told was the best one. I am assuming strawberry, but it could have easily been raspberry, blackberry, or any other synthetic flavour. I am losing the will to live, and much like a doomed marriage, this (jelly) baby will not save me.

It was cloying, jellied, and synthetic, but it was the end of the road for my taste test and for that alone, Jelly Babies deserve my respect.

They get a 3/10.