I love sucking through them and rubing the coconut off the top of my mouth with my tongue – lovely unique texture.

…I think these long lasting sweets are great – not like some others – few seconds of pleasure then their gone from your lips leaving you wanting more – Emeralds last longer – leaving you with a satisfied…feeling.

Eileen, That’s the closest thing to “adult” Oatfield fan fiction I’ve ever read. I’m off to have a cold shower (while sucking a cooling Easer).

Am new to this – found you when doing a Google search on OF – trying to buy online.

I actually love Oatfield Sweets – nothing like an Emerald – I love sucking through them and rubing the coconut off the top of my mouth with my tongue – lovely unique texture.

As someone who is on a constaint diet – like most people – I think these long lasting sweets are great – not like some others – few seconds of pleasure then their gone from your lips leaving you wanting more – Emeralds last longer – leaving you with a satisfied – value for money feeling.

I always associate Chocolate Oranges with GAA matchs – get a longing for one as soon as I set foot on a GAA field.

Have seen some new packaging for Emeralds lately – looks like their getting a facelift.

There’s definitely a suppository vibe going on alright (and I reckon they would be easy enough to…er…insert). A cheap suppository vibe. As the Euro-symbol-like “E” seems to indicate.

Also, ‘Easers’ sounds suspiciously like a name for laxatives.

Dunno about Time bars, but Calypsos are the hardest substance known to man.

I’m sure everyone in the country of a certain age has a similar priest bearing sweets story. Our fella used to bring us Iced Caramels. Not made by Oatfield but certainly existing in the same (possibly creepy) universe.

Simon, Given your love of Macaroon it doesn’t surprise me to hear that you were a sucky sweet lad. RE: The shards (or shrapnel) you speak of – Dime Bars were similarly lethal. Like biting into a pane of sugared glass.

And then there were Time Bars – forged from adamantine chocolate. Seasoned Time Bar eaters knew that insistent licking was the only way to wear one down (and get your money’s worth). Amateurs would recklessly chomp down with front teeth. Teeth that would invariably remain lodged in the Time Bar’s surface when the shocked youngster withdrew it from his/her bleeding gob.

Their mythical medicinal curative powers I now wonder about.

But I do, therefore, know that the Chocolate Orange is
(a) a fine and upstanding sweet in trained hand but
(b) will tear up the roof of your mouth with shards of sugar shrapnel the moment that chocolate is released if you’re not careful.

On Irish sweets and their relation to the Ryan report, there is one anecdote I can’t recount now without it sounding creepy. There used to be a kindly old brother from one of the religious orders who’d come to our house quite frequently, up visiting from Dublin, and he’d always secretly slip me a couple of tubes of Silvermints, which were rather exotic at the time. It’s now near impossible to tell this story without imagining some potential ulterior motive on the part of the brother, even though I’m sure there was none.