The Daim bar, from Kraft.
I used to really like these, when they were called Dime bars. Back in the day, they were quite exciting. They were a new, crunchy, chocolate-coated bar of excitement. They were advertised on telly by Harry Enfield and an armadillo.
But I went off them. I precisely can’t remember why. I just remember liking them quite a lot, and then not liking them as much.
I think it’s because eating a Dime, er, sorry Daim bar, is like eating an exploding block of brittle plastic. Shards of toffee-flavoured splinters go everywhere. I no longer see it as exciting, I now see it as dangerous.
That might just be me becoming old though.
Choc rating : 4 / 10.
