Writing a proper candy review requires a considerable amount of of research, and when it comes to resources for said research, the Internet is (unlike any professional sports team based in Cleveland) hard to beat. The Internet (as you are surely aware) is a series of tubes created by Al Gore on January 1, 1983, and it is just bursting at the streams (a little pun for you) with information, some of which is actually correct!
For instance, you might already know that the common key component in caramel, butterscotch, and toffee is burnt sugar, but if you were to do an Internet search to learn what differentiates one from the other, the first page of results alone would be enough to enlighten you with facts such as:
- Caramel is cooked at a lower heat than toffee
- Caramel is cooked at a higher heat than toffee
- Caramel is made with white sugar, while butterscotch and toffee are made with brown sugar
- American toffee is made with white sugar, while English toffee is made with brown sugar
- The only difference between butterscotch and toffee is that butterscotch is cooked to a soft-crack sugar stage, whereas toffee is cooked to a hard-crack stage
- Toffee is cooked to a soft-crack stage, but can also be cooked to a hard-crack stage
So I guess that settles that!
During your investigation, you might also learn that the word "toffee" is an alteration of the word "taffy," yet another burnt-sugar delicacy (just to add more confusion to the mix). And while we're on the subject of word origins, your research could very well lead you to the old British term "toffee-nosed," which means "pretentious or snobbish" and is in reference to the brownish nasal discharge of high-society snuff-takers (and what could more appealing to read about in a candy blog than brownish nasal discharges?).
Except that it's not (unless maybe it is, but probably isn't; origin stories are never as consistent as one would like). Because most sources prefer the explanation that "toffee-nosed" has nothing to do with the sugary treat, but is instead an alternate spelling of "toffy-nosed," derived from "toff," which is a derogatory word for members (or wannabes) of the upper class and is itself derived from the word "tuft" (referring to the golden tassels worn by titled undergraduates at the University of Oxford or the University of Cambridge).
To sum it up, the British are really bad at keeping their words straight.
Thankfully, all of the sources I discovered agreed on at least one thing: toffee is hard and brittle.
And that provides the perfect segue to today's subject: Walker's Nonsuch English Creamy Toffees.
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| Everything you know is wrong. |
When Americans hear the name "Walker's" in relation to British goods, their mind undoubtedly thinks of shortbread. See, way back in 1898, a man named Joseph Walker took out a £50 loan to open a shop wherein he could sell baked goods and confections; he was particularly proud of his shortbread recipe, which he considered to be the world's finest. And from those humble beginnings, Walker's Shortbread has today become Scotland's largest food exporter, shipping all over the world.
It's a nice, heartwarming story, isn't it? Unfortunately, it has even less to do with today's candy than brownish nasal discharges.
The real story is completely different (I can't emphasize enough just how different it is; I also can't help feeling I've been through this before)!
Way back in 1894, a man named Edward Joseph Walker (see, he has "Edward" before "Joseph") opened a shop wherein he could sell confections; he was particularly proud of his toffee (see, toffee, not shortbread) recipe. And from those humble beginnings, Walker's Nonsuch is today shipping its toffee all over the world (and just for the record, "nonsuch" means "unmatched; without equal").
So, basically, the 1890s were a good time for men named Walker to open sweets shops (it also helped if there was a "Joseph" somewhere in there).
The package design is very well done, seamlessly blending modern style and nostalgia. It takes me back to my early days as a young sweets fiend, when I would daydream of waking up early to join the local dog in chasing delivery trucks leaving the candy factory, a kite on a short string firmly grasped in my hand and a flock of large birds ominously circling above me.
It's nearly enough to bring a tear to my eye (and a brownish discharge to my nose)!
We're off to a good start!
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| If you're looking for a healthy snack, you've come to the wrong place. Welcome! |
The "best before" date is on the back, with an Americanized nutrition facts panel sticker applied just below (covering... who knows what?). If one were to assume the date was in the American format, I would've had my first piece with a few days to spare. Of course, one would be wrong in assuming that (so why would one do that?), as this is an English candy, so I missed the date by a mile (time is not traditionally measured by miles, but "a mile" makes me feel marginally better than "six months"). This is partially (i.e. mostly) due to me being the "one" who assumed incorrectly (I really need to review more regularly to avoid such rookie mistakes).
But I decided to carry on with the review and stop only if I believed my error would prevent the possibility of a fair assessment.
The nutrition panel contained no surprises (it was slightly faded due to its age; the original data, which is thankfully available elsewhere on the package, held up much better). I mean, we're talking about a sweet consisting mainly of sugar and butter, so what would one expect aside from sugar and fat?
The only point of interest is that comparing the American and English panels is a futile endeavor. No matter how I worked the math, I could not get the nutritional information to match between the two. Whether that is due to approximations throwing things off or due to one or both parties involved using the Internet to guide their measurements, I cannot say (an Internet search provided a third set of numbers which did not match either one). But it does suggest one should take the data provided on nutrition facts panels with a grain of salt (I mean that figuratively here, though toffee recipes do often call for salt).
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| A list so short, they decided to repeat it. A lot. |
The ingredients are listed in no less (and, for that matter, no more) than eight languages (and salt is indeed included). Aside from glyceryl monostearate (commonly called GMS, not to be confused with MSG), it's all pretty straightforward. Again, what do you expect? It's toffee (and a 19th century recipe, to boot).
I'm not going to lie: I am a big fan of toffee, and thus far Walker's Nonsuch English Creamy Toffees had been batting a thousand (truly living up to the "Nonsuch" designation). If these little candies weren't every bit as wonderful in reality as they were in my truck-chasing, kite-wielding childhood dreams, I was going to be very disappointed.
Either way, I had a job to do, so I cautiously opened the bag and poured a few pieces out...
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| About 40g of toffee if you're English, or about 50g if you're American. |
Outside of the package (with no nostalgic scene to distract the eye), the individually-wrapped toffees appeared just a hair less enticing. It's not that there was any fault at all with the design, but I couldn't help being reminded of the sort of treat an elderly woman would let sit in her purse for years (possibly even from Edward Joseph Walker's first batch in 1894) until the opportunity arose to offer one to an unsuspecting child.
Then I remembered the "best before" date, and it hit me: I am that elderly woman, my candy stash is that purse, and I am that unsuspecting child (yes, I play multiple parts in this scenario). So, who am I to judge? It's not as if I'm Lord Justice Mummery or something (if you don't get that reference, you might care to read my Nestlé Polo review).
Thus, I unwrapped a piece of toffee and put it in my mouth.
Mr. Walker, you were obviously some sort of wizard!
I absolutely loved everything about it. It was like an easier-on-the teeth caramel (which makes sense) in the best possible way (I've been known to eat more caramels than I should, believe it or not). I suppose the texture and consistency might not have fully demonstrated the intended creaminess due to the age of the product (and some looked a tad... different), but I didn't care. It tasted of sweet, sweet sugar and luscious fat, and my taste buds danced in ecstasy.
Therefore, I gladly rate Walker's Nonsuch English Creamy Toffees a well-deserved 4. Not only would I buy them again some day, I am eagerly awaiting that day!
So, to the fine folks at Walker's Nonsuch Toffee, I applaud you and thank you for continuing your great grandfather's legacy. He would no doubt be as proud of you as of his toffee.
And that is truly saying something!
Consisting mostly of sugar and fat,
The Sweets Fiend
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| Math that does add up: sugar + butter + heat = YUM! |
