"in my day, Werther's Originals were made with sawdust"

“in my day, Werther’s Originals were made with sawdust”

I’ve no recollections of my grandfather ever having given me sweets, and were he to have done so I’m pretty sure they would not have been Werther’s Originals. This dissonance between personal experience and brand identity is thus inevitably a strike against the aforementioned Original.

Having said this, the sheer pleasantness of the Werther’s Original is a fact not often mused upon in society at large. Encountering a toffee flavour, the mind seems automatically to instruct the mouth to chew, but expectations are confounded by the sweets’ brittleness. This unique juxtaposition, I venture to suggest, is at once the source of what makes the (aptly-named) Original such a nice confection, and an explanation as to why it will never penetrate the mainstream in the same way as, say, the Fruit Pastille.

Provided I am not too busy dribbling and being cantankerous, I fully intend to give my grandchildren Werther’s Originals.


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