24 corner-shop chocolate bars ranked in order of excellence

Alright, alright. We know that 90 percent of the wrapper’s contents are the thin air that lies between this chocolatey plait’s holes. But the price!  

So bubbly, it’s like eating a chocolate bubble bath. It’s light, it’s fluffy and… Mmm, chocolate bubble bath. Sorry, what were we saying?

An amazing invention. Not just for its surprisingly rare combo of biscuit, caramel and chocolate. But also because of the fact that the combo of the three is some kind of amazing mouth-based equivalent of super-glue. Very impressive. Or, as we say after eating one: ‘Mmff mfff mmmfff’.

Sure, the bar itself is a delicate, flaky (natch) cocoa-based treat. But the best bit? Inhaling the tiny little strands that collect in the packet. Come on, we’ve all done it.

So creamy. So light, so fluffy. So not quite as good as 21 other more chocolatey bars. The main problem? It’s the Cristiano Ronaldo of chocolate bars: it just goes down way too damn quickly.

When Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder sang ‘Ebony and Ivory’, they could’ve been singing about the way the Bounty teams a pearl-white coconut centre with a smooth chocolatey outside. They weren’t, of course – it’s a song about racial unity – but still. 

Aka ‘The one you eat when you want to pretend to be a bit healthy and you can convince yourself that the raisins outweigh the caramel and chocolate.’ As for the reasoning behind its name? Yeah, no idea.

So solidly honeycomb that it’s like someone dipped a bee’s nest in chocolate. Except, y’know, nice. We’d like a thicker coating of the brown stuff, if we’re honest. But we understand: the makers probably don’t have much time to get the choc on before the swarm attacks.

Back in the ’80s, they didn’t place caramel in the centre of choc bars, they went right ahead and blended it in. And, frankly, we like it. Although a bit of food colouring wouldn’t go amiss. I mean, we’ve heard of white chocolate. We’ve heard of dark chocolate. But, erm, what exactly is that shade? Baby poo chocolate? 

Ironic, really. Nowadays, adding milk is the chocolate equivalent of adding brick dust to cocaine. Still, despite this bar’s odd pride about how it waters (or milks) down its cocoa content, there’s no doubting it: this is hands-down the best unadorned chocolate bar. It’s the little black dress of the confectionary world. The Beatles of the brown stuff.

You could run a marathon on this hefty, nut-packed behemoth (hence, presumably, its original name). It’s so chunky and rich, we don’t even think of it as a snack. More a meal. Don’t judge us.

You’re at work, you’re having a break – is there any other choice? I mean, it’s flimsy, right? It’s basically a biscuit. Whatever, this is our perfect cup-of-tea-and-screen-break chocolate.

Alright: maybe there IS another choice for breaks at work. And it’s this caramelly, biscuity beauty. One finger only, mind. Two fingers and you’re basically talking about lunch.

One of the few toffee-based treats that doesn’t leave you pulling the remnants out of your teeth, hoping it doesn’t turn into accidental DIY dental surgery. In fact, it’s not just the toffee that’s the thing. It’s the way it gooeily sits on top of those crunchy rice bits. Really, this should be called ‘the Rice Krispie crunch’, but you know: lawsuits.

So solid, you could build houses out of it or keep one in your pocket to ward off attackers. Funny, really. It’s just nougat, crispy rice and chocolate. How so hefty?

There is such a thing as too much chocolate, and this bar proves it. Consider the following: Dairy Milk = pretty good, but a whole bar’s a bit much. Chuck in some fruit and nuts to pep it up? Nom nom nom. All gone!

For those moments when you can’t decide between chocolate or a biscuit, there’s this (also raisins). Genius, really. Two of the nation’s fave snacks put into one bar! (And also raisins). It’s the ultimate snacktime double-header. It’s perfect. And we’ll even forgive it something we don’t often overlook in chocolate: there are also raisins.

Kinder Surprise = cheapo crap. Kinder Bueno = cheapo crap that we can’t help love. That’s hazelnut cream in the middle, you know. Hazelnut cream! Sounds like something you’d find in a Michelin-starred dessert. So maybe it’s not cheapo crap. Maybe that makes it classy (it doesn’t and we don’t care).

Wispa or Aero? For years, we couldn’t decide. And then, like some kind of sticky road to Damascus, there it was: caramel. So much caramel. Oozy, gooey, delicious carame… okay, we’ll stop.

Nestle’s website says this is one of their ‘iconic hunger brands’. We say: ‘WTF dudes? Just call it what it is: a kick-ass wafery, crunchy piece of awesome!’

So damn satisfying to crunch into that you can almost ignore that the gentlest bite will compact this into a rock-hard tooth cavity filling. Besides, we kind of enjoy winkling out that little bit of caramel and having it for a second course. Just don’t tell our dentist.

Filth. Absolute filth. Delicious filth, though. Gooey, lip-smacking, glance-sideways-on-stepping-out-of-newsagent-before-shoving-the-whole-thing-into-your-mouth filth. 

A turbo-charged Lion Bar. A peanut butter-packed dream. Conventional wisdom tells us that the Americans can’t do chocolates like us Brits. This bar tells us otherwise.

Which genius came up with the idea of cutting a KitKat in half, then blowing it up to twice its size? No matter: we love them. One thing, though – can you believe it’s been 16 years since it launched in 1999? Sixteen years!