(Photos by the original author, inspired by Max Brokman)
Hey there, and welcome to what I’m confidently calling:
THE DEFINITIVE RANKING OF EVERY SINGLE CHOCOLATE IN A QUALITY STREET TIN, ONCE AND FOR ALL.
Let’s be real, the internet loves a good list. Who needs actual paragraphs when you can have bite-sized chunks of opinion? Especially when Christmas is looming, and let’s face it, from now until the New Year, productivity in offices across the English-speaking world is going to plummet faster than Santa down a chimney. And yours truly is no exception, especially when there are chocolate rankings to be made. We crave those neat subheadings, those bold opinions, that glossy food photography. Lists! We all secretly adore them.
So, now that we’ve established the undeniable appeal of a list, we need to set some ground rules for scientifically (sort of) ranking Quality Street Chocolates. Why Quality Street? Because Christmas is coming, and frankly, enough is enough. Seriously, what is the Toffee Penny still doing in there? And the “Honeycomb Crunch” – is that even a real thing? And why, oh why, do we still genuflect before the Purple One, arguably the most overrated chocolate in the entire festive tin? We all know the Quality Street lineup. We all have our favorites and the ones we strategically leave at the bottom of the tub. But no one has definitively ranked them. Until now. Your definitive Quality Street chocolate ranking is here.
Before we dive into the chocolate chaos, let’s consider what makes a truly great Christmas chocolate from those family-sized, foil-wrapped tubs. I’ve come up with a highly scientific (again, sort of) four-point criteria:
1. Unwrap-ability Factor: Some of these foil wrappers – I’m glaring at you, Orange Chocolate Crunch – require a Herculean effort to open. It’s a two-handed, thumb-wrestling match just to get to the chocolate inside. Sure, the payoff is you can crumple the foil into a tiny ball and launch it at unsuspecting relatives, but compared to the Toffee Finger, which practically unwraps itself if you just glare at it intensely, it’s a major hassle 1.
2. Year-Round Availability Test: If this chocolate is available in massive, year-round bar form, then it’s immediately suspect as a true Christmas treat. After the initial sugar rush of the holidays fades sometime around January 2nd, nobody dreams of craving a Caramel Swirl in July. It’s just… wrong. Like demanding mince pies in May, or wanting eggnog in August. Yet, those chocolate behemoths at Nestle think the Purple One and the Green Triangle are so special they deserve year-round, supersized versions. It’s chocolate Christmas creep! Christmas chocolates are for Christmas! Stop polluting the festive chocolate pool.
3. Family Feud Potential: A truly great Quality Street should be the cause of at least minor family squabbles. Unless someone gets genuinely upset because you dared to eat their chocolate (in many families, Quality Street tubs are divided by invisible, territorial lines: Mom claims all Strawberry Cremes; your brother guards the Fudge; your sister has a weird obsession with the Toffee Penny – let her have them; Dad pretends he’ll eat “anything,” but secretly eyes the Coconut Eclairs), then it’s simply not a top-tier chocolate. This is why the Milk Choc Block will never be crowned champion. Nobody fights over the Milk Choc Block. Your dad isn’t going to stage a dramatic Boxing Day petrol station dash because you ate a Milk Choc Block.
4. The “Handful” Hypothesis: Is the chocolate so utterly delicious and festively mood-boosting that you can consume them not just one or two at a time, but by the glorious, imprecise unit of measurement known as the “handful”? Can you keep shoveling them in until you’re practically bursting, leaving a mountain of discarded wrappers beside you on the sofa, a sticky, foil-covered monument to festive indulgence? This, my friends, is what we in the list-making business call “self-explanatory.”
Alright, chocolate contenders, are you ready? Let’s line up these Quality Street warriors and rank them, from the absolute worst to the ultimate best. This is it. The definitive Quality Street chocolate ranking. Let the chocolate games begin!
THE ABSOLUTE WORST: THE GREEN TRIANGLE
A close-up of the infamous Green Triangle Quality Street chocolate, showcasing its unique shape and foil wrapper.
The Green Triangle. Just saying the name makes my teeth ache. This isn’t just a bad Quality Street; it’s an affront to Christmas itself. It tastes like a bizarre hybrid of “cheap supermarket rum” and “disappointment wrapped in foil.” The praline filling has the consistency of cement mixer sludge, and the chocolate vanishes the instant you bite into it. I lie awake at night, haunted by existential questions: Who are these people who genuinely enjoy the Green Triangle? Who were they targeting with their market research – people who declared, “I adore the Green Triangle!” and “Green Triangle? Top tier chocolate, IMO”? And why, for the love of all that is holy, did they unleash bar-sized versions of this monstrosity upon the general public?
Seriously, who greenlit the Green Triangle? And why does it persist? Who is this chocolate for? I’m convinced it’s a conspiracy. It’s filler. Nestle knows we don’t eat them, but they keep them in there anyway. Is it the cheapest chocolate to manufacture? Is the Green Triangle some sort of tax loophole? Did old John Quality-Street, the inventor himself, demand its eternal inclusion on his deathbed? Why? Just… why?
MILK CHOC BLOCK – The Block of Blandness
If you profess, with your actual mouth, that the Milk Choc Block is your favorite Quality Street, I will politely but firmly question your life choices. “Hmm,” you muse, “Yes, a large, awkwardly-sized, stiff slab of mediocre chocolate is exactly what I desire this Christmas. Merry Christmas to me, indeed.” No. Just no. It’s the beige of the Quality Street world. Utterly forgettable.
TOFFEE PENNY – The Dental Hazard
I get that some people are toffee enthusiasts. For those individuals, I wholeheartedly recommend the Toffee Finger, a respectable toffee option. But the Toffee Penny? It’s an abomination. It’s always squashed, slightly melted, and then resolidified in its wrapper, emerging as a wrinkled, misshapen mess. And the toffee itself? The consistency is tragically wrong – too chewy, not enough caramel-y smoothness. Consuming a Toffee Penny is essentially volunteering to render your jaw immobile for a solid five minutes. Plus, you’ll need industrial-strength dental floss afterwards to excavate all the sticky remnants. Christmas chocolate enjoyment shouldn’t feel like a dental endurance test. I shouldn’t have to work this hard for a subpar toffee experience, Toffee Penny.
ORANGE CREME – The Citrus Offender
Fruit-flavored chocolate is, in my expert opinion, the work of a mischievous festive imp, and the Orange Creme is the most egregious offender. “Oh,” the Orange Creme whispers seductively, “You enjoy a Terry’s Chocolate Orange, do you? Well, how about we amplify that artificial orange flavor by a thousand, blend it with a sickly sweet, gritty sugar creme, and then encase it in dark, waxy chocolate that crumbles the instant you look at it?” My answer? A resounding NO! No, thank you! Keep your artificially enhanced citrus nightmares far away from my Christmas chocolate experience.
STRAWBERRY DELIGHT – The Psychopath’s Pick
Anyone who willingly selects the Strawberry Delight from a fully stocked Quality Street tin – when every other chocolate option is available and gleaming with festive promise – is, and I say this with genuine concern, exhibiting concerning behavior. They might need professional help. Choosing the Strawberry Delight first is the chocolate equivalent of putting up your Christmas tree on December 27th. It’s just… wrong.
HONEYCOMB CRUNCH – The Anonymous Newcomer
The Honeycomb Crunch is the “new kid on the block” of Quality Street, and it’s my solemn duty to report that it is utterly unremarkable and entirely pointless. I just ate one. In silence. Alone. It didn’t feel very Christmassy, eating a Honeycomb Crunch for content purposes in a quiet office. Just me, versus the Honeycomb Crunch. A lonely warrior facing down a beige chocolate.
Frankly, I’m feeling fatigued, chocolate comrades. You don’t realize it when they’re all jumbled together in the tub, but at least half of the Quality Street chocolates are, at best, aggressively mediocre, and at worst, plummeting rapidly towards chocolate oblivion. Here I sit, chewing on a Honeycomb Crunch, and the existential dread creeps in: Someone actually developed this in a lab. Like, this went through taste tests, focus groups, entire panels of chocolate “experts.” They replaced the Toffee Deluxe with this. For what? What is the point?
I suppose the underlying issue is that Christmas just isn’t magical anymore. It used to be technicolor wonder, pure unadulterated excitement, a deep and unwavering belief in Santa, months spent hoping and praying for that one perfect present, and then – boom – Christmas morning, wish fulfillment! Animated movies, late bedtimes, unbridled merriment. Now, when people ask what I want for Christmas, I genuinely say, “towels.” I need new towels. Last year, I asked for a dressing gown. If you got me a small box of artisanal hot sauce and some chocolate coins, I’d probably be genuinely thrilled. Christmas used to be waking up at dawn, eyes wide, stocking overflowing at the end of the bed, then tearing through a room of presents, breathless, ripping open wrapping paper, testing out a new bike on frosty streets, a table groaning under the weight of food, sitting cross-legged by the fire. Now, Christmas is finding five minutes to stand outside and gulp down a lukewarm bottle of beer just to catch a breath. Now, it’s a frantic, overwhelming barrage of other people. Now, it’s just me, alone in the office, eating a Honeycomb Crunch and yearning for Christmases past.
But chin up, chocolate lovers! We’re halfway through our Quality Street ranking journey! The best is yet to come (hopefully).
THE PURPLE ONE – The Overrated Icon
A classic Purple One Quality Street chocolate, known for its hazelnut and purple wrapper.
Declaring the Purple One as your favorite Quality Street is like announcing that Ronaldo is your favorite footballer: undeniably good components, a perfectly decent overall package, but a decidedly obvious and uninspired choice. It’s not the “artist’s” choice. You can squabble amongst yourselves about the merits of the Purple One, because I’m operating on a higher chocolate plane.
CARAMEL SWIRL – The Barrel of Goodness
What is the fundamental difference between the Caramel Swirl (good) and the Purple One (meh)? Well, for starters, the Purple One is shaped like a human eye. Seriously, has no one else noticed this? Hazelnut pupil. Chocolate eyelash-like ridges. Slightly unsettling. Also, the chocolate-to-caramel ratio in the Purple One is marginally off. But otherwise, they’re essentially the same chocolate experience. So what elevates the Caramel Swirl to a superior status? Is it the barrel-like shape? I think, you know what, it might just be the barrel-like shape. The Caramel Swirl marks the turning point – the first genuinely good Quality Street chocolate in this ranking.
INTERLUDE: I have been in close proximity to a tub of Quality Street for over two hours now! The air is thick with the cloying, vaguely artificial scent of chocolate and sugar. It’s… intense. I don’t think I can face another Quality Street for a long time after this.
FUDGE – The Dependable Delight
The Fudge is simply a textural triumph. Perfectly smooth, satisfyingly chewy, and a consistently solid addition to what I like to call “The Christmas Handful” 2. It’s not flashy, but it delivers every time. A reliable chocolate soldier in the festive fray.
TOFFEE FINGER – The Tetris Treat
The iconic Toffee Finger Quality Street chocolate, instantly recognizable and a festive favorite.
Many people go absolutely bonkers for the Toffee Finger, and I think I understand why. Psychologically, it triggers the same dopamine rush in the brain as getting the long four-block piece in Tetris. You know that feeling when that glorious tetromino descends from above, and you know you’re in for a points-scoring party. That’s the Toffee Finger. When someone breaks out a Toffee Finger, it’s a clear signal: Christmas has officially arrived. The Toffee Finger shouts: yuletide cheer, jingling bells, snowball fights! It whispers: family gatherings, roast turkey, warm, fuzzy feelings. It also screams: “Fucking hell, Steven, did you devour ALL the Toffee Fingers? There were SEVEN in there! They weren’t all for you, you know!”
INTERLUDE: Did you know if you flip a Quality Street tub upside down, you’ll find a list of ingredients? It used to be a tin, of course, which was infinitely superior, but I suspect they switched to plastic for two key reasons. Firstly, and most obviously, plastic is cheaper than tin. But secondly, and perhaps more importantly, if you give a tin to a British nan, she will instantly repurpose it for sewing supplies, without ever labeling it as such. Generations of children have been traumatized, thinking they’d discovered a secret chocolate stash, only to find themselves face-to-face with ancient, dry threads and packets of rusty needles. Quality Street, understandably, wanted to distance themselves from the “nan’s sewing kit” association. Nans, it seems, don’t favor plastic tubs. Anyway, back to the ingredients list on the tub – DO NOT READ IT. It’s basically a thousand different types of sugar and a stark warning that one serving size is a mere two Quality Streets. Two! I estimate I’ve consumed at least five “adult servings” in the creation of this list. My dentist is going to have a field day.
ORANGE CHOCOLATE CRUNCH – The Quietly Dignified Choice
The Orange Chocolate Crunch is a surprisingly excellent chocolate because it gracefully straddles the precarious bridge between “fruit-flavored” and “deliciously crunchy,” a rare feat in the chocolate world. I also appreciate its stout, flat, crab-like shape. There’s absolutely nothing inherently bad about the Orange Chocolate Crunch. Sure, it might not be as showy and attention-grabbing as those Purple Ones or Toffee Fingers, but it possesses a quiet dignity, like a distinguished old man shedding a single tear at a war memorial. It’s the understated hero of the Quality Street tub.
THE BEST OF THE BEST: COCONUT ECLAIR – The Undisputed Champion
The supreme Coconut Eclair Quality Street chocolate, easily the best in the tub and a festive must-have.
The Coconut Eclair. Here it is, folks. The pinnacle of Quality Street perfection. The best of the best. Let me explain my irrefutable reasoning: flawless, biteable texture (you can genuinely eat these by the handful); sufficiently niche to ignite a family argument when you snatch the last one; absolutely no conceivable scenario where you’d crave one outside the magical Christmas window; and effortlessly unwrappable using my patented one-handed, “slightly-too-enthusiastic-chocolate-lover” technique I described earlier. By every conceivable metric, the Coconut Eclair is the ultimate Quality Street chocolate. Furthermore:
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It actually tastes precisely like the flavor it’s supposed to be – coconut – and not some vague, sugary approximation (I’M STARING INTENSELY AT YOU, ORANGE CREME).
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If you, like me, enjoy holding Quality Street wrappers up to the light to pretend you’re gazing through a stained-glass window (a perfectly normal Christmas pastime, I assure you), then you absolutely need a blue wrapper in your collection. Blue is crucial for optimal stained-glass wrapper viewing.
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Solid, dependable, rectangular shape. No unnecessary frills. Just pure chocolate and coconut goodness.
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And, crucially, the clincher: It is, without a shadow of a doubt, my personal favorite.
So there you have it. Irrefutable, scientifically-backed (sort of) proof that the Coconut Eclair reigns supreme as the greatest Quality Street chocolate. No further debate is required. All dissenting opinions are, quite simply, invalid. Thank you for your time, and may your Christmas be filled with Coconut Eclairs (and maybe some new towels).
- I sometimes subtly hint at my past as a person of larger stature in my writing. See if you can spot one such hint today! ↩
- Despite sounding suspiciously like a questionable and potentially illegal dance move, “The Christmas Handful” is, in fact, the strategically curated handful of snacks you pilfer from the kitchen while grazing your way through Christmas Day, in the crucial hours before the main Christmas dinner event. We’re talking: three or four carefully selected Quality Streets, a handful of pistachios, perhaps a cheeky mince pie, all precariously balanced in a claw-like hand, transported to the sofa for optimal consumption. The Christmas Handful. Try saying it aloud at your next family gathering. Observe the reactions. ↩
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