Tag Archives: lidl

Alesto Sweetened Dried Cherries – the definitive review (7/10)

I made what some would call an impulse purchase the other day. Browsing the aisles at Lidl (I may be an international superstar these days, but I still find time to return to my roots) I came across one of my favourite sections: dried fruit and nuts.

Reaching for my usual helping of Alesto Nuts Royal (I’d take the walnuts out at home, of course) my gaze was dragged to the right. There I saw something… different. New. Special. Alesto Sweetened Dried Cherries.

Now I knew already how great dried cherries were, thanks to the fine efforts of Waitrose and their Love Life fruit/nut selection. Delicious little bastards, some might say. So I took the plunge – £1.49 being beyond what I’d normally spend on such a crazy, wacky impulse buy, but I am a renegade.

Getting them home I was eager to tuck in. A few chores stood in my way – waxing the gibbon, flossing the tables and wiping your mum’s knees off (none of these are euphemisms, nor are they true). But once clear I sat, readied myself, tore open the bag, tore it again the other way as Alesto has stupid bag designs and they never open properly first time, dipped in my misshapen claw and tucked in.

It was what you might call ‘a bit of a let-down’. In fact, I’d go so far as to say ‘it wasn’t very nice and I instantly regretted the decision of buying them’. Like I said – I’m a renegade.

All in all they taste like weird, sweetened plastic (with a hint of rubber). They taste like a waste of £1.49. They taste nothing like cherries. They taste just like people who never go to Lidl would expect everything from Lidl to taste. They taste like failure, and they taste like something that I really should just throw in the bin.

I bought them for more than 20p though, so there’s no fucking way in hell I’m binning the bastards.

7/10

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I go to a poncey supermarket

It’s happened. I officially shop at Waitrose. Sometimes. What I once derided as the habitat of middle-aged, middle class women has become my second choice supermarket when I need to pick up my beans or soup (with beans in it). That is second behind Lidl, of course – I could never really completely dump Lidl. It has cheap things, and cheap things are good. Still, Waitrose is the alternative that I’ve picked for when I’m bored of questionable meat, or vegetables that look a ‘bit wrong’. Also it’s right across the road from Lidl, which means it’s always an option as I do so hate having to move more than absolutely necessary.

Oh wait, no – I mean: “I shop at Waitrose because I care about quality products at competitive prices, have a boner for Heston and Delia and love the fact that they only use farmers who ‘share their values’”.

Why is a supermarket a statement of your class, of your quality of life or of the type of person you are? Why are all the women in Waitrose (who look like clones) frightened of walking across the road for far cheaper items of equal quality? Why do I have to be confronted with Heston Bloominhell (HAHA SATIRE) and his stupid penis-like head every time I go into that place? So many questions, so little in the way of answers. It’s a supermarket where they sell you things in order to make a profit. It’s not a statement on your quality of life, your health, wealth or wise… th. It’s just a supermarket. Just like Lidl. They both sell beans. It’s like people getting nostalgic about Woolworths: stupid and annoying.

Still – got some cheap Waitrose banoffee pie today. Can’t argue with those odds.

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A discovery of historical significance

I was recently lucky enough to find the rarest of the rare – a large bag containing 18 smaller packets of Nik Naks, the “knobbly, freaky sticks of corn”. This is something most historians will agree is a good find, I’m sure they’d be all too happy to tell you. You see, the “Nik” “Nak” was a strange beast in the childhood of many Britons – the rebel of the crisp world; not potato, not flat (in fact, not even a regimented shape) and consisting of some frankly ridiculous and non-committal flavours like ‘rib’ or ‘spicy’. Not only were they crisp-like snacks on the fringe of potato chip society, they were happy with their reputation – they thrived in being the outsider; the underdog. We all thought we’d seen the last of them, though, after what we thought to be their entire population was wiped out by an aggressive strain of Gibberella (Red) Ear Rot. But this find – in a dig site located in Lidl – showed us otherwise.

It isn’t clear whether I will be able to get the find declared as treasure just yet, as the coroner is away from his post for the next week or so*. By the time he returns, the find may well have perished after being subjected to the harsh conditions of my room in 2010. Either that or their deliciosity will be their downfall – I have no idea.

What it is safe to say, however, is that this find has brought back some memories of my past, though not a great deal. I mean who actually has a huge portion of their history attributed to a semi-tasty corn-based snack made into questionable shapes? Who? WHO?! TELL ME! No one: that’s who. Which is why, in this frankly bizarre entry, I am going to sign off by saying that nostalgia being linked to snack foods as it so often is, is a sign that this country is going to be a big fat fatty in a few years. It’s also a sign that the next fucking Facebook group I see asking “what happened to Wham bars” or “were Frosties (the sweets, not the cereal) good to throw at the elderly?” I will be forced to take explosive action. You have been warned.

*He’s off hunting marmosets in Kenya – they’re not indigenous to the country, so he has to have them flown over in transport crates. Sometimes, if he’s bored, he’ll make the cargo plane release the crates at high altitude before gunning them down with a flak cannon. He’s not a very nice man, to be honest, but each to their own and all that.

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