Haribo Sweets: A Chewy, Chaotic Love Affair That Britain Never Quite Grew Out Of
Somewhere between the serious world of adulthood and the glorious nonsense of childhood lies Haribo Sweets — those colourful, chewy morsels that make a mockery of restraint. Open a bag and you’ll hear the quiet crackle of mischief, a sound that could rouse even the most responsible adult into behaving like a child again. Forget minimalism; Haribo is maximalist joy in edible form — a riot of jellies, fizz, and flavour that refuses to apologise for being fun. The Art of Chewing Happiness Haribo has been perfecting the craft of giddy indulgence since 1920, when Hans Riegel of Bonn (Ha–Ri–Bo, if you’re wondering) took sugar, syrup, and a dash of genius and turned them into a worldwide phenomenon. A century later, these sweets haven’t just survived the wellness revolution; they’ve danced straight through it, gummy arms waving. Because joy, as it turns out, is best served chewy. The Haribo Sweets range is an entire language of texture and taste. There’s a vocabulary to it — the sof...