Dessert that went viral is pulled from Aussie shelves after potentially dangerous ingredients weren't declared
A popular chocolate that went viral on TikTok has been urgently pulled from Aussie shelves over concerns it failed to declare potentially dangerous allergens.
Choco Bliss has recalled its pistachio-filled Dubai Chocolate bars from stores across Queensland after failing to properly reveal allergens on the label.
The brand operates stores in four Brisbane Westfield centres as well as separate locations in Indooroopilly and Maroochydore.
The recall affects all Dubai Chocolate bars with expiry dates up to and including January 2026.
Dubai Chocolate is one of several Choco Bliss flavours that went viral on TikTok over the past year, known for their rich, United Arab Emirates-inspired fillings.
Other popular varieties include the Konafah milk chocolate and Tiramisu white chocolate bars.
According to a Food Standards recall notice, the product did not declare the presence of pistachio, milk, sesame seeds, and wheat - all of which can trigger reactions in people with allergies or intolerances.
Food Standards advised consumers to return the bar for a full refund and warned those with allergies or intolerances not to eat it.
'Consumers who have a pistachio, milk, sesame seed or wheat allergy or intolerance should not consume this product,' it said.
'Consumers should return the product to the place of purchase for a full refund.
'Any consumers concerned about their health should seek medical advice.'
Choco Bliss shared the recall on social media and said it would update the label on the affected bar.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Guardian
24 minutes ago
- The Guardian
The truth about fruit juice and smoothies: should you down them or ditch them?
When my sister saw me drinking a glass of orange juice at breakfast, she was horrified. 'You're drinking pure sugar!' she said. Juice, once considered so virtuous people paid good money to go on 'juice fasts', has been demonised over the past decade. The epidemiologist and author Tim Spector has said orange juice should 'come with a health warning' and he'd rather people drink Coca-Cola. Despite this, the global juice market is growing, with chains such as Joe & the Juice expanding rapidly – and in an umbrella review last year, Australian researchers found potential health benefits to drinking juice. So should you jettison your juicer and boycott juice bars? Or add a glass of OJ to your daily diet? I asked the experts to clear up the confusion. It depends where you live. In the US, 100% juice is a recommended 'primary beverage' alongside water. In Canada, though, juice has been excluded from healthy eating guidelines altogether. Other countries tend to be somewhere in between. The UK, Spain and the Netherlands recommend limiting juice to one serving a day, while in New Zealand the limit is once a week and Australia suggests one serving 'occasionally'. Sammie Gill, a registered dietitian with the British Dietetic Association, says juices offer a concentrated source of vitamins, minerals and phytochemicals, such as polyphenols. Studies from the US, Canada and Iran 'have shown that drinking orange or apple juice is linked with lower levels of inflammation and improvements in cardiovascular health,' she says. 'Fruit juice shouldn't be discouraged within the context of a healthy balanced diet.' As well as vitamins, juice also provides a concentrated source of sugar (mainly fructose). Consuming too many of these 'free sugars' – released when the fruit is crushed into juice – contributes to tooth decay and obesity and may put you at risk of type 2 diabetes. The WHO suggests limiting the intake of free sugars, including those found in fruit juice, to less than 10% of daily calories; the UK limit is 5%, or 30g (seven teaspoons). 'A 150ml serving of fruit juice contains around 12g of free sugars, so it's very easy to exceed your maximum with just a few glasses,' says Gill. 'Drinking fruit and vegetables in liquid form is very different to eating whole fruit and vegetables in their intact form,' Gill says. 'You're only getting partial benefit.' Namely, you miss out on the fibre found in the fruit's skin and flesh. 'With whole fruit, mechanical breakdown (chewing) and chemical breakdown (enzymes) slowly release the contents of the fruit's cells. In liquid form, fruit passes through your gut and is absorbed more quickly, which can result in a rapid release of sugar into the bloodstream.' She adds that large amounts of fructose in one go can trigger symptoms in people with a sensitive gut, such as those with irritable bowel syndrome. Rob Hobson, the author of Unprocess Your Family Life, says vegetable juice tends to be lower in sugar and contain a wider range of nutrients: 'For example, beetroot juice contains nitrates, carrot juice contains vitamin A and dark leafy greens such as kale contain magnesium and calcium.' With shop-bought green juices, he advises checking the ingredients list – many are mainly apple juice. And, he stresses: 'Drinking green juice is never as good as eating the whole vegetable.' The 2024 Australian review concludes that while more studies are needed on vegetable juice, it could be a useful addition to people's diets. 'Vegetable consumption is even lower than fruit consumption at a population level. As such, it is important to consider the potential for vegetable juices to be incorporated into models of healthy eating to address this gap,' write the researchers. Even Spector is a fan. In his book The Diet Myth, he says a regular multi-vegetable juice has health benefits. If they are made from whole fruits and vegetables blended up, smoothies will contain beneficial fibre – but beware shop-bought ones made from fruit purees. 'Homemade smoothies are your best bet because you can use all edible parts of the fruits and vegetables, including the juice, flesh, seeds and skins,' says Gill. 'Leaving the skins on can increase the fibre content by up to 50%. You're getting more nutritional bang for your buck.' In the UK, frozen berries were added to the ONS inflation basket in 2023 and mango was added this year, reflecting the growing popularity of homemade smoothies. Vary your ingredients for maximum nutritional benefit and prioritise vegetables over fruit, says Gill. You can add protein, healthy fats and additional fibre in the form of milk, yoghurt or kefir, nut butter, seeds and oats. Hobson likes to make a smoothie bowl topped with coconut shavings and chopped fruit. Bridget Benelam of the British Nutrition Foundation advises keeping an eye on calories. 'There's a feeling that if it's a drink, it doesn't count, but of course it does. Just be aware of it and adjust other things in your diet to maintain balance.' Dietary advice in many countries is to drink no more than 125-150ml of fruit juice, vegetable juice or smoothie daily – a small glass. The Australian study concluded you can be a little more generous: 'The multiple potential beneficial effects detected at low to moderate levels (50-240 ml/day) of 100% juice consumption can provide exposure to beneficial nutrients and bioactive compounds, without the risks associated with excess consumption of free sugars and calories.' Gill says that consuming anything in excess can be harmful to health. 'Enjoy a glass of fruit juice or smoothie, but don't rely on it to hydrate you throughout the day. It shouldn't be your default drink … Think of it this way: it takes three to four oranges to make one glass of juice. You wouldn't eat four oranges in one sitting.' No. Even a green juice containing five different vegetables, or a smoothie made from five kinds of fruit, counts for only one of your five a day, because of the free sugars and lack of fibre. Hobson goes further. 'Juice is an extra – you should still eat at least five fruits and vegetables in whole form,' he says. 'You shouldn't get into the habit of drinking your nutrition. We should be chewing, not sipping!' As well as prioritising vegetables, include lower-sugar fruits such as berries, stone fruits, citrus fruits, kiwi and avocado. Consider diluting juices and smoothies with still or sparkling water, or ice – Benelam says juice should always be diluted half and half with water when given to children. The NHS advises drinking juices and smoothies at mealtimes, not as a between-meal snack, to reduce the risk of tooth decay. This may have an added benefit, says Hobson – especially for vegetarians and vegans. 'Vitamin C helps the body absorb iron from plant-based sources such as dark green leafy vegetables, tofu, seeds, beans and lentils.' 'Always choose a pure 100% fruit juice, ideally with pulp,' says Gill. Avoid 'fruit nectars' and products labelled 'juice drinks': 'They are bulked out with other ingredients such as sweeteners, colours and flavourings.' 'It depends what you can afford,' points out Hobson. 'Buy fresh juice if you can – pasteurised juice loses vitamin C. You'll still get some vitamin C from juice that is made from concentrate, but avoid any with added sugar or syrup.' 'Vitamin C is sensitive to oxidisation and levels do decline, so freshly made juices at a juice bar may contain more,' says Benelam. 'But portions tend to be very large – go for a small size.' Gill says there is evidence to show that ginger can help with nausea and that turmeric has anti-inflammatory effects. 'There is no harm in taking a daily shot if you enjoy it,' she says. 'At the same time, they are often expensive, can contain added sugars and different brands contain different amounts of ginger.' She notes that supplementing with ginger can interact with medications such as blood thinners; seek advice from a pharmacist if necessary. Hobson is more sceptical. 'I'm not sold on fruit shots,' he says. 'A lot of them are apple juice with a bit of ginger.' It's probably better – and certainly cheaper – to use ginger and turmeric in cooking instead. 'Juice fasts are unsustainable and unrealistic for most people,' says Gill. 'While fruit and vegetables are a rich source of many nutrients, including fibre and vitamin C, they are limited in other nutrients – such as vitamin B12, iron, omega 3 and protein. They cannot provide the body with all its nutritional needs. Food diversity is what's needed for optimal health.' There is no need to 'detox', adds Benelam. 'Our bodies are very good at getting rid of toxins.' And Hobson is unequivocal: 'Avoid juice fasts at all costs. There are no health benefits whatsoever.' 'We should get most of our hydration from water,' says Benelam – but it doesn't have to be plain. Gill suggests flavouring still or sparkling water with chopped fruit or berries; a squeeze of lemon or lime; herbs such as mint, basil or rosemary; or slices of cucumber. She says other drink options include kombucha – 'Just check the amount of sugar, which can vary from brand to brand' – and herbal and fruit teas (hot or iced). Gill suggests Greek yoghurt topped with banana or berries, chia seeds and honey. Benelam keeps it simple: 'A glass of milk – cow's or plant-based – is a good alternative before or after the gym. It contains protein, nutrients and electrolytes.' In an ideal world, we'd get our vitamins, minerals and bioactive compounds (such as polyphenols, flavonoids and carotenoids) from whole fruits and vegetables, rather than juices and smoothies. However, most of us don't eat enough of them. As the Australian review points out, juices and smoothies are an 'affordable, accessible and palatable' addition to the diet. You're not better off with Cola-Cola – but you should stick to one small glass a day. Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here.
The Guardian
3 hours ago
- The Guardian
Dr Fiona Stanley: ‘If we want better health outcomes, the last thing we need is more doctors and hospitals'
Fiona Stanley arrives at South Beach Cafe at 11.30am on the dot, beaming beneath her orange sunhat. She's bright-eyed and buoyant, perhaps owing to her morning laps at Fremantle pool, a twice-weekly ritual. In the warmer months, she swims here, at South Beach, a calm, protected bay on the Indian Ocean. 'I'm an addicted ocean swimmer,' she says, as we toddle up the pathway to the beach beneath a row of Norfolk Island pines. 'But I'm so much fitter since I joined this swim group. We swam almost 2.5km this morning!' At South Beach today it's 19C, though it feels warmer. The water is glass-flat; the sky, a cloudless blue dome. Mothers with babes in arms are splashing about in the shallows, and high up in the pines, magpies sing their languid warble. 'Now, I must tell you about this,' Stanley says, as we kick off our shoes and plunge our feet into the sand. She's proudly clutching a book called First Knowledges Health: Spirit, Country and Culture, which she co-authored. Part of an eight-book series, it explores how Indigenous approaches to healthcare can solve today's problems – detailing cultural rituals such as birthing on Country and end-of-life care. 'I just love, love, loved writing this,' she says smiling. One of Australia's leading experts in epidemiology, child and maternal health, and Indigenous health, the book is a convergence of everything Stanley has spent her life fighting for. She is vivacious company – quick to laugh, warm with strangers, her mind firing off in many directions at once. As we walk, she stoops to collect a discarded bottle-top from the sand, stashing it in her pocket mid-sentence. She's nearing 80, but the same relentless energy that defined her career is still there, bubbling under the surface. Birthing on Country has become a national movement, says Stanley, holding up the book. 'It's about offering warm, family-centred care delivered by Aboriginal midwives, often in hospitals or clinics, supported by the best western diagnostics but under an Aboriginal-controlled umbrella. 'The outcomes are amazing. It's halved preterm birth rates in Aboriginal births. It's halved infant mortality. But the thing that really got me is that it reduced children being taken into out-of-home care by about 40% … What is that saying? That's saying, 'I'm a good mother. You can't take my baby away.'' Stanley is best known for founding the Telethon Institute for Child Health Research, which became internationally recognised for showing that folic acid taken before and during pregnancy can prevent spina bifida. She also helped establish the Australian Research Alliance for Children and Youth, and was instrumental in setting up Aboriginal-controlled health research units. That drive, she says, stems from both childhood idealism and hard-earned experience. Stanley grew up in Sydney in a prominent scientific household – her father, Neville Stanley, helped develop Australia's polio vaccine before the family moved to Perth in 1956. As we stroll along the shoreline, she recalls a vivid dream she had at age eight. 'We had this little boat on Sydney harbour,' she says. 'So in my dream, I'd sail to these beautiful islands, vaccinate the locals, then sail off again. I had no idea what I was doing – but I knew I wanted to help.' But the path became clearer years later, during her early days as a junior doctor at Princess Margaret hospital in Perth. 'There was an Aboriginal boy, maybe four or five, who'd come in from a remote community,' she says. 'He had severe diarrhoea and dehydration. And he died in my arms.' She pauses. 'I was 25. And I remember thinking, I don't know if I can keep doing clinical work. I need to understand how we prevent this.' Soon after, she joined a volunteer medical team travelling to remote Aboriginal communities across Western Australia. 'We went from the Eastern Goldfields to Mount Margaret, to every mission, reserve and camp … all the way up to Kalumburu,' she says. 'I saw the conditions. I saw the racism. I saw the consequences.' Stanley is the first to acknowledge that those early efforts weren't perfect. 'It was a group of white do-gooders,' she says wryly. 'Very paternalistic, especially back then.' But in those formative years, she was working alongside Aboriginal leaders such as Eric Hayward, a Noongar writer and health advocate, to challenge structural racism. She recalls one trip to Narrogin – 'one of the most racist towns in WA' – where a local doctor had refused to treat an Aboriginal child without upfront payment. 'The mother raced the kid to Katanning and it died on the way,' she says. 'So Eric and I got that doctor struck off the register.' We take a seat on a low limestone wall overlooking the beach. A mother strolls past with a baby on her hip and Stanley lights up. 'Oh my God, that baby is so cute,' she calls out. 'How old?' 'Seven months,' the woman replies. 'He's adorable. Just adorable,' Stanley says, before turning back to me. 'You know,' she says, 'the earlier we intervene in a child's life, the better. That's why I care so much about birthing on Country. Non-Aboriginal women benefit from these methods too – everyone benefits.' The conversation takes a casual turn as we talk about life since she retired in 2011, about being a grandmother, about her fondness for yoga and long walks, and the death of her husband Professor Geoffrey Shellam, who passed away in 2015. She speaks of him with tenderness – her intellectual equal, a fellow scientist and the person she bounced ideas off for decades. 'My husband became the professor of microbiology at UWA [University of Western Australia], which was my father's chair,' she says, laughing. 'After he died I moved down to Fremantle. And now I'm a Freo tragic, I love it here.' But, of course, Stanley has had a lot more on her plate than swim club and yoga. She still holds various academic and board positions, and advocates for many causes. 'I've also got more freedom now,' she says with a rebellious grin. 'I'm not running an institute any more. I'm not dependent on government money. So I can say what I like.' She's outspoken about the dangers of the North West Shelf extension, describing climate change as 'the biggest threat to human health'. Her disappointment over the failed voice to parliament referendum is equally fierce. 'We know Indigenous-led services work,' she says. 'It's not just moral – it's evidence-based.' For Stanley, these issues are all part of a bigger picture: rethinking what health really means, and who gets to shape it. The real challenge, she argues, is getting policymakers to think beyond hospitals and specialist care. 'If we want better health outcomes, the last thing we need is more doctors and more hospitals,' she says. 'We need to invest in social supports, early intervention, community-led programs.' She points to the United States as a cautionary tale. 'They spend more on health than anyone else and have the worst outcomes in the developed world,' she says. 'We need systems that keep people well, not the systems that pick them up after they're broken.' Before we know it, our hour is up and it's time for photography before Stanley whizzes off to another meeting. The photographer, Tace Stevens – a Noongar and Spinifex woman – introduces herself, and Stanley's face softens. 'Where's your mob from?' she asks instinctively. 'My father is from Cundeelee mission,' Stevens replies. Stanley's eyes well with tears. 'That was one of the first places I ever visited,' she says quietly. 'It changed me.' After the photoshoot, she gives both of our hands a squeeze before striding back to her car. On to the next thing. First Knowledges Health: Spirit, Country and Culture, co-authored by Fiona Stanley, Shawana Andrews and Sandra Eades, is out now (A$24.99, Thames & Hudson).
The Guardian
3 hours ago
- The Guardian
‘I don't think my brain should have gone through that': five young people on their experience of smartphones as teens
Debate and anxiety about teen and preteen access to smartphones and social media is raging. One paper has likened smartphones to a 'parasite' on our brains, while another study suggests moderate use of social media does not have a harmful effect on young people. In the US more than 100,000 parents have joined an online pledge to delay giving children smartphones until at least the eighth grade and in Australia a ban on under-16s using social media will come into effect in December. Despite all this, OECD figures released in May show 70% of 10-year-olds and 98% of 15-year-olds have internet-connected smartphones. So is giving teenagers smartphones that big a deal? To find out, we asked four twentysomethings who got a smartphone at some point in their teen or preteen years – and one who didn't. Sienna Seychell, 21, Melbourne I was about 11 when I got my first smartphone. But when I was six I got an iPod Touch so I had already been communicating with people that way. My brother installed Kik, the infamous app for predators, on the iPod – a bit concerning to think about now! But I just used it to text my friends from school. I know a fair few of my friends went down a rabbit hole contacting people that they definitely shouldn't have at that age. I got social media in year 5 or 6. I convinced my mum to let me get Snapchat for the filters and I got Instagram shortly after. It definitely brought my friendships closer because I had a readily accessible means of communication outside school hours. I was cyberbullied in year 6, so that was a negative. But I feel like I put that aside to be able to talk with friends. I had a good experience of social media overall but it has contributed to friends' severe eating disorders. I think I would have been more outdoorsy had I not had a phone. I would have connected with nature more and hung out in the real world, instead of online all the time. I think it would have made a great impact on my mental health. I suffer from pretty bad anxiety and OCD and sometimes I feel that a big trigger is using my phone and being able to focus on things online that are outside my control. I would have hated a social media ban – but I would have gotten over it! If I could go back I would have not let myself ever get TikTok. I think my attention span is so poor because of it and I really struggle to sit down and study or just do what I love doing without getting distracted. I can barely watch a movie for an hour without checking my phone a few times. I'm always on my phone. Ella Jackson, 21,, regional New South Wales I was 12 when Mum took me to get an iPhone 5, so I had Instagram from a really young age. I grew up in a place called Penrose, which is in the NSW southern highlands. I liked emo music so I would spend a lot of time on my phone looking into that world. I found a sense of belonging on the internet, because there weren't a lot of people around who liked the same things as me. The bad side of it was Instagram models, obviously. Twelve-year-old girls shouldn't be comparing themselves to 30-year-old women. I think I also became conscious of the fact that it seemed like a big deal to live a life that was 'worth' posting on Instagram, especially in the later part of high school. It made me conscious of how people perceive others. I felt like everybody was judging each other all the time. Studying I found so tricky, because the phone was always there and it was so easy to be distracted by it. I ended up having to film myself studying so I couldn't go on my phone. And because my mum's house was in a regional part of the highlands, there was no way out unless she was going to drive me 40 minutes into town. So I was just stuck at home all weekend and would just sit there streaming, which is crazy. It's this huge amount of time that was not well spent. When I got my driver's licence, all of this changed. I could go places and see my friends. More interesting things came along and my brain was like, OK, you don't need to be doing this any more. Zach Karpinellison, 29, Sydney I had a dumb phone until I was probably 15, then I pivoted to a cheap Android. On my dumb phone I had limited data and credit. So the clear difference was that, all of a sudden, you're constantly messaging other people. I was in an era where schools had no sense of whether phones needed to be regulated, so you had your phone on you all the time. It was a real opportunity to have quite deep conversations with people, which would do a lot of the work of forming a friendship with them. It was also an opportunity to connect to a wider pool of people outside school. That was good – I liked that part of it. But it trained me to expect immediate contact with everybody. I would feel a real panic and stress over not hearing back from people if they didn't immediately write back. I carry that with me to this day – being stressed about someone not responding to me. As a teenager, you're already full of anxiety and trying to figure out the world. Then you're messaging someone at 2am and they drop off, and you spiral out into 'something terrible has happened!' I don't think my brain should have gone through that at that stage. I had Facebook and Messenger, then Instagram towards the end of high school. Because I went through those different iterations of the internet, I am savvy about how to use these things but also have an ability to step away from it. I recognise when I'm being sold things in a way that people who are gen Z don't necessarily. But we were posting ourselves online and comparing the like counts [of Instagram posts]. That was, like, absolutely brain melting. It was not good. Pearl Cardis, 24, Sydney I had a Nokia brick phone in school. It was the equivalent of a party trick because I could toss it across the playground, or break in three pieces for the drama, and then put it back together – people's eyes got so wide. But beyond that it was pretty rough. We were quite low-income. Mum had all of us on Vodafone so that we could do free Vodafone-to-Vodafone calls but we weren't able to text anyone. So I could only really use my phone to call family. All around me it was Apple city – everyone else had an iPhone. I was not overly concerned with fitting in but I also didn't have great friendships. I doubt being different in that way helps when you're already kind of an oddball. For me the dominant experience was one of stress and isolation because I had less independence and less ability to connect with people around me. It was difficult to travel anywhere or meet anyone because I couldn't use maps or text friends. I remember getting off the bus one time and just being so panicked, in the middle of nowhere, with no way to contact anyone except an actual pay phone on the side of the road. I tried to call someone but they didn't pick up. I know that a lot of people had huge body image issues going through high school or were very concerned with trends and appearance – whereas I was just not conscious of that. I still had low self-esteem, which I think any young person will, but it was more through comparison to my peers than anyone online. I didn't get a proper phone until I was 20. I think I'm a very different person to what the mould looks like for the people I grew up with. I am able to go without my phone for an extremely long time without worrying about it. I feel less habituated to needing to check notifications all the time, and I hate [the pressure to] respond to people regularly. But when TikTok came out there were periods where I would be trapped for five hours at a time scrolling. I just get so sucked in because I have no guardrails. It's like a kid who doesn't have sugar who gets access to sugar. Maybe these are things that it's better to be trained to adapt to as you grow up, as opposed to the floodgates opening all in one go. Reinhard Holl, 24, Adelaide I got an iPhone in year 7. I came to social media a little bit later, maybe midway through high school – it didn't spark my interest that much at first. Later it became more of a fixation. I would say social media became a little bit of a negative thing in the way that I felt a lot of pressure to be perceived a certain way, put things online and keep up with the way that everybody else was using it in high school. But it also became a good way to interact with people. The phone definitely affected my sleep. I would wake up and get straight on my phone and mentally reinforce having that immediate stimulus as a normal thing. I think it affected my attention span, too – it was this thing that I was focused on constantly. If I could go back I wouldn't have allowed myself to sleep with it in my room. But really, I feel like I got thrown in the deep end and learned how to have a phone that way. I now have a good dynamic with it – I know how to use it in a way that works well for me.
