british food blindfolded

I’d taste-tested plenty of British food and drink during six years in the UK, but could I recognise it blindfolded? I asked my partner to go to the local shop and choose some things. The rules were vague, so I didn’t know what he’d brought back. There were some lovely moments, some very wrong guesses and one spoonful of horseradish that made me break out in a sweat.

A good guess, then a pickled onion

The first thing was a can. The drink tasted a little like alcohol, but wasn’t cider, and it reminded me of a shandy I’d tried before. I guessed shandy and found out it was bitter shandy. I was pleased with the guess more than the taste. That felt like a decent start to recognising things without being able to see them.

The next item smelled vinegary and felt like an eyeball. I already had a pretty good idea what it was, and I was already upset. Pickled onion. Once I looked, it was labelled sweet pickled silverskin onions. That was a definite no for me, and there was pickled-onion juice on my legs. Lovely.

Some things were much stranger without sight

For another item, I was told not to touch it, which made me more nervous. I described the taste as brown and stringy, then a little meaty, and the closest guess I could manage was some kind of chutney. It turned out to be coronation chicken. I wouldn’t have guessed that. I didn’t think coronation chicken was generally that bad, but in this blindfolded context I really didn’t like it.

Chocolate was a much happier palate cleanser. From its thin shape, I thought it might be a Freddo, and I found it delicious. Then the off-camera help laughed while opening the next thing. That wasn’t comforting. I was told I needed plenty of it to get the taste, and I’d already started associating a spoon with bad things.

The spoonful was incredibly spicy. My first thought was English mustard, though this felt chunkier, almost like a relish. It was Colman’s horseradish. I didn’t think it was terrible, but having it on its own without knowing what was coming was a shock. A Werther’s sweet afterwards was a much nicer change. I loved those buttery sweets, and this one was delicious.

The picnic food I couldn’t quite place

A squishy sweet reminded me of saltwater taffy. I thought it was watermelon, partly because the people in the room knew I didn’t like watermelon and I suspected that might be the choice. It was actually sour apple Chewits. Once I knew, I could taste the apple. I thought it was good and didn’t find it particularly sour, despite the claim on the packet.

Next came something meaty and salty with pastry. I was thinking of a Scotch egg, even though I didn’t find it very eggy. It was a pork pie. Fair enough, I’d said it didn’t really taste of egg. I loved it and wanted the rest. Pork pies and Scotch eggs were some of my favourite British foods, and a pork pie at a summer picnic sounded wonderful to me.

A Scotch egg did turn up later, and this time I recognised it. I thought it was a good one. The egg inside wasn’t the solid, hard middle I associated with some cheaper supermarket versions. Once I looked, it was Tesco’s Finest The Ultimate Scotch Egg. I liked the colour of the egg and thought it was delicious, even as I got crumbs everywhere.

Alanna holding a Scotch egg with its egg centre visible
The Scotch egg I recognised during the blindfolded taste test, with the egg centre visible. Frame from my original video.

The Bakewell tart was another confident answer. I’d made one before, though I couldn’t remember whether that video had been on YouTube or Patreon. I loved Bakewell tarts, and this one was really good. It was Tesco’s Finest again. I was quite happy to have the rest.

Pickle, nougat and a very earthy drink

I was certain the tangy, chunky spoonful was piccalilli. It turned out to be Branston Original Pickle, so I’d got the pickled-vegetable idea without the right product. I thought it was really good. The chewy nougat afterwards was less successful. Its squishy texture reminded me a little of marshmallow sweets, but I didn’t have a good guess and didn’t like it. I’d rather have had more pickle.

The last drink tasted earthy, grassy and herby to me, almost like licking somebody’s lawn. I eventually thought it was something gingery, perhaps a ginger pop. It was ginger beer. I took the near guess as a win, but the drink was a no thank you. The marshmallow Fluff that followed wasn’t bad, though, and I thanked my partner for getting all the treats. Between those spoonfuls, I’d found plenty to enjoy, particularly the pork pie, Scotch egg and Bakewell tart.

Watch me try to guess British food blindfolded.