Taste test week: Heinz? HP? Branston? Which is your favourite?
There used to be a weekday evening which, for me, had become Beans on Toast Night. This development was due to it being my late night at work and consequently, not wanting the fambly to go hungry waiting on my tardy arrival, I insisted that they eat without me.
As a quick and nutritious supper, I had enjoyed the aforementioned pulses on cooked bread for a long, long time. And apparently, I was not the first person to partake of this benefit.
Baked beans were first unleashed unto the great unwashed at the turn of the 20th Century by American, Henry Heinz, he of the renowned Heinz food company.
Then in 1905, Mr Heinz started to advertise his baked beans as the perfect pre-cooked meal at the end of a long day in the factory. They were instantly popular.
Since I’m mentioning Mr Heinz you might be assuming that I’d be a fan of the original baked beans but alas, that is not the case. As a long-standing fan of beans on toast, I had come to the conclusion that Heinz beans are not the best. Don’t get me wrong, they are completely fine but for maximum satisfaction on Beans on Toast Night, it had to be Branston. Beanz don’t have to mean Heinz.
This was also brought home to me last week when a Which? taste test showed that Heinz Baked Beans scored worse than a host of supermarket own-brand beans.
Top of the pile were Asda’s beans, closely followed by Aldi’s, with Branston taking the bronze medal. As well as that, beans from the Co-op, Lidl, Sainsbury’s and M&S all scored higher than Heinz.
Never one to shirk a challenge, I decided that I would carry out a taste test of my own, procuring as many tins of beans from the great and the good (and bad) of our local supermarkets that I could find.
I wondered if my penchant for Branston would change. Would my new bean of choice come from an own-brand stable? Would I save money from a change? Would I be able to fart the alphabet after eating my way through this challenge?
Ahead of the challenge, I decided that I would ‘test’ all the tins of beans in the same manner, which is to say, on the same kind of toast, spread with real butter and topped with the following: Grated cheddar cheese, spring onions and a squirt of barbecue sauce on the side.
I don’t know how Which? performed their test but as far as I know, this is how mankind is supposed to eat their Branston, so who am I to argue.
However, as I had to taste multiple tins of beans, I wasn’t going to be able to eat tin after tin without becoming entirely sated and skewing the test results. The conclusion was: I would eat beans on toast every morning for so long as it took to try all of the tins I had bought.
First up were Asda’s Baked Beans and post-repast, I had to conclude that Which? had the right of things. These beans were indeed saucy, balanced and satisfying and I wondered if I had found my new zenith.
“Don’t be so hasty,” I told myself and waited until the next day to try the next tin on the list: M&S Baked Beans.
And so it went.
Each morning was the same routine. Bread into toaster. Beans into saucepan. Butter toast. Heel on the beans. Add accoutrements. Devour.
I have to admit, by day three (back on the Branston) I was a bit like the toast: I was already browned off. However, I soldiered on and sallied fourth and by day four (Heinz) I had noticed a distinct change in the type, severity and frequency of my flatulence. Let’s just say the interior of my long-suffering Ford Focus had all the ambience of a foggy byre.
Day five (Tesco), flowed into day six (Supervalu), flowed into day seven (Stockwell) and by time I arrived at day eight (HP) I decided the taste test had gone far enough. I reckoned I had achieved a good cross-section of the beans commonly available around these parts but most importantly of all, I was sick to the back teeth of effin beans.
Of all the beans I tasted, the Branston, Asda and M&S were noticeably better than the competitors (although I still think Branston is the best). The Heinz, Tesco, Supervalu and HP were acceptable without being overly satisfying. However, bottom of the pile were the Stockwell. These were as metallic as sucking an old two pence piece and almost as watery as soup. They were also the only beans that I didn’t finish. Even extra salt and hot sauce couldn’t detract from their special taste spectrum (tangy-ness bordering on sour milk) and half of my portion went into the bin.
My conclusion (if there is a conclusion) is that there’s negligible difference between most of the beans lining our supermarket shelves. The Heinz, Tesco, Supervalu and HP are all acceptable but there’s no way I’d be buying Heinz, which is almost twice the price of all other tins.
My other conclusion (apart from a new appreciation of a bean’s fibre content and its impact on the type, severity and frequency of a person’s bowel movements), is that I am never eating beans again.
Sayonara, Beans on Toast Night.
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