Which brings me neatly onto the Man Bait Maple Bacon Lollipop (thanks Gabs, you spoil me!) “All natural”, the packaging cries. Well, I tell you what. There is nothing natural about an orangey-pink sugary sweet lollipop floating with bacon bits. Once you have sucked enough, little crunchy bacon nuggets are excavated and the surprisingly strong aroma of smoked bacon is released from the knobbly meat feast. Sweet, savoury, but mostly bacony, there’s no denying that this lollipop experience will blow your mind. I’m ever so confused. It’s tasty. It’s wrong. It’s making me feel dirty to eat it, but as I type, I lick the last.

Rating: a sugary-porky-and-apprehensive-of-the-aftertaste 6/10

But seriously, these chocolate candies are quite something. I mean, who doesn’t love plain or peanut m&m’s - ok, apart from freaks or people with dangerous nut allergies. But PEANUT BUTTER…hello! Creamy peanut butter spheroids coated with milk chocolate and a crisp shell – sweet, salty, crunchy and smooth all at the same time. Unfortunately, due to lack of actual peanut to contend with, they go down quicker than regular peanut m&m’s. Perhaps this isn’t a problem for normal people, but I’ve just inhaled a bag the weight of my head. I did share though – Chris got at least six.

Rating: more addictive than crack 9/10

This week I have mostly been eating haslet. What I thought was a tray of cheese scones turned out to be traditional pork and herb meatloaf from Lincolnshire. Made with ground pork, stale white bread, sage, salt and black pepper it was only after I sampled a bit that I learnt the word haslet comes from the Old French hastilles meaning entrails. Appetising.

Once you cut into the brown crust (probably best not to ask), the tightly-compressed pink filling is reminiscent of pork pie, but the texture is somehow drier.  It has a lot more flavour than a pork pie or Scotch egg, but unfortunately the overriding flavour of this one was salt, way too much for me.  My favourite bit of a pork pie is the pastry, so the idea of a naked filling doesn’t really do it for me.

I can’t leave without mentioning Pickle Power, an amazing smooth cheddar made by the Snowdonia Cheese Company. Think mature cheddar with strong, homemade pickled onions rather than jarred pickle, and you have the kind of tangtastic cheese that makes your saliva glands ache. It packs a pickly punch, so it does.

Rating:  an entrail fail 4/10

The traditional tablet recipe – first noted in the early 18th century – was made with sugar and cream. These days, it’s usually made with sugar, condensed milk and butter. Another healthy delicacy to come out of Scotland. It’s hard to understand why they have so much heart disease.

It’s the same colour as fudge, but is harder and more grainy, crystallized even. Often flavoured with vanilla, whisky, or nuts, the one I tried was unadulterated, “jist like mithers.” Tablet is a lethal discovery for anyone with a sweet tooth, particularly delicious if you let it melt on your tongue. I’m having trouble typing now, as I’m a shaking wreck in a sugar-induced altered state, perhaps soon to lapse into a coma. Maybe the drugs would have been safer after all.

Rating: A delicious, diabetes-tastic 9/10

While Jansson’s temptation may sound like a dodgy porno, it’s actually a traditional Swedish gratin often included in a smorgasbord. The baked dish consists of thin strips of potatoes, onions, anchovies and cream with a crunchy topping. The anchovies, rather than making it fishy, provide a salty little kick and make it moreish beyond belief. While gratins can sometimes be incredibly rich, this wasn’t too heavy on the cream, so I was able to delve in for seconds (and thirds). I have absolutely no idea who Jansson is, but I fully understand why he was tempted so. Yum. (Läckra).

Rating: a smorgasmic 9/10

Neither the words brown nor meagre sound particularly appetising, but as I’d never heard of this fish before, I fearlessly went for it. Similar to sea bass and also known as the shade fish, its distinguishing feature is a yellow mouth. I’m pleased to note that it wasn’t brown or meagre, but actually white and thoroughly meaty. Like cod, it benefits from other flavours, and mine was topped with a chunky crust of breadcrumbs, herbs, nuts and good olive oil. It was satisfying and delicious, possibly made more so by low expectations evoked by its revolting name. Perhaps it should be renamed white plentiful?

Rating: Fishy-dishy-goodness 8/10

The softer one I tried is made from almonds, honey, sugar, stabiliser E-471 (all good stuff then) and egg white. It made me think of feta cheese as I opened the wet plastic packaging and cut a chunk of the fudge-coloured slab.  The flavour was definitely almond, but the saltiness and bits of crunchy nut in it were reminiscent of peanut butter. The texture was smooth, then became slightly crumbly/powdery in the mouth. It’s not for the faintly sweet toothed. After a modest slab (for a greedy piggy wiggy), I was bouncing off the walls from its sugary goodness.  Learn from my mistakes – choose moderation. Está delicioso!

Rating: Bland? Oh no. 9/10

Windsor & Eton brewery have produced Windsor Knot Wedding ale – “yours to have and hold forever (while stocks last).” Apparently the bottle is adorned with swans because they mate for life, and not because the Queen owns their asses. The 4.5% amber-coloured ale is made with floor malted barley, wheat and two specially selected hops – Sovereign and Nelson Sauvin (named for its likeness to the Sauvignon grape). The aroma is pleasingly fruity, the taste is light, refreshing and well-balanced, making it extremely easy-to-drink. Shame it’s not going to be around forever.

*Unless Kathryn wasn’t joking about a sticker book

Rating: a right Roy-ale ripper 9.5/10

The cakes looked a similar colour and texture to Werther’s Original, and it amused me no end to imagine someone in Laos frantically unwrapping Werther’s and stuffing them into rustic palm leaf packaging. Not dissimilar to eating a brown sugar cube, except the texture was far smoother and the flavour more caramel. In India, jaggery represents good luck and is eaten before engaging in a new enterprise. My new enterprise is eating jaggery.

Rating: no jaggery-pokery 8/10

Not only are whortleberries tasty little blighters, they are full of vitaminey goodness. They are used by herbalists to treat a variety of vascular disorders, and during World War II, Royal Air Force pilots claimed that eating whortleberry jam before night bombing raids improved their vision. Those pesky pilots – they’d say anything for their whortleberries!

While I can’t claim that the jam has improved my vision, I can claim that it is delicious. Not too sweet, plenty of fruit, lovely rich colour – I’m a jam convert. Right, I’m off. If you need me, I’ll be at The Whortleberry Tearoom in Somerset.

Rating: so good it ‘urts 9/10