Description. Dr. Blankenship toted the Burger Rings all the way from Down Under for testing in the home office. Dr. Bunting The Elder does not eat anything which walked on land, but “happily” for her, Burger Rings do not contain actual burger. (Or rings.) The Rings themselves do not contain any resemblance to their depiction on the packaging. As portrayed, Rings do not look appealing, exactly, but they are sizeable, and reminiscent at least of the pub grub they apparently aim to replicate. In real life, Rings look like Totis, but not as red or suggestive of irradiated Spaghetti-Os.
Packaging/Branding. Misleading, as mentioned above, and also counterintuitive. The color scheme probably wants to evoke a browned patty, with black singe marks, and mustard…but the dusky shades bring to mind a mid-eighties office park at night. Australian package notes and warnings provide some interest, although the “When you’re done, put the pack in the bin!” exhortation is properly read as “Put the pack in the bin; then you’re done.” The back label also disclaims that “average values [are] subject to seasonal variation.” In what season whey powder is at its freshest is not mentioned.
Description. How to pronounce the name of the airy chocolate bar? “Uno,” like the game? “You know,” as if eating the bar confers upon the consumer membership in an elite — albeit boring and fat-logged — secret club?
Our tester has chosen to go with “ooh…no.” The only discernible reason for selecting a chocolate novelty as dull as the U-No is the hope that its stratospherically high fat content will induce a stroke.
Packaging/Branding. A sleek silver wrapper and mid-century lettering belie the utter tedium of the product within.
The candy’s cheery attempt to spin its utterly uninteresting stale-pudding center as a delicate truffle is a deluded failure.