Latest news with #Robinsons
Daily Mirror
21-07-2025
- General
- Daily Mirror
I tried orange squash from Lidl, Asda, M&S & 6 more – £1 bottle was better than Robinsons
I tried orange squash from Aldi, Lidl, Tesco, Sainsbury's, Asda, Morrisons, Waitrose and M&S and compared them against Robinsons orange squash to see if any lived up to the same standard or surpassed it. Orange squash is an essential drink that most British households will stock in their kitchen cupboards. It enhances water's flavour and ensures children consume adequate fluids, especially now that the weather can be humid. Nevertheless, with a bottle of Robinsons costing £2.50, expenses can rapidly accumulate if you're purchasing this product frequently, just like other items you may use daily, like butter and, more typically, toilet paper. Most supermarket own-brands hover closer to the £1 price point — so is that additional £1.50 or thereabouts genuinely justified, or are you simply paying for the brand name? These were the queries I aimed to resolve, and to accomplish this, I sampled orange squash from Aldi, Lidl, Tesco, Sainsbury's, Asda, Morrisons, Waitrose and M&S and measured them against Robinsons orange squash to determine if any matched the same quality or exceeded it. Regarding how the beverages were prepared, 15ml of concentrated squash was blended with 135ml of water. Robinsons Beginning with the market leader in squash, we have Robinsons, for numerous decades linked with Wimbledon. It boasts a brilliant orange hue that remains bright even when watered down in a glass. Presentation, naturally, excels here, expertly crafted, attractive colours, everything you'd anticipate from the leading brand, but it's the flavour that matters, so let's examine that. Robinsons takes pride in producing squash that delivers "real fruit" taste; nevertheless, it possesses a somewhat synthetic flavour. Rating: 7.5/10 Aldi Moving on to Aldi, a supermarket brand renowned for its budget-friendly pricing, this juice was the joint-third cheapest of all, costing just 89p. Aldi's double-strength 20% fruit squash in the bottle bears a similar hue to Robinsons—a vibrant and fresh orange that induces thirst. Regrettably, it slightly missed the mark in terms of taste. While still palatable, it wasn't as memorable as the leading brand, and certainly left less of a lasting impression, tasting noticeably cheaper in quality, which, considering the price, is perhaps to be expected. Rating: 5/10 Lidl Lidl's own offering at 89p appears almost identical in colour to the classic Robinsons in the bottle, a real burst of bright orange. However, this one did lack the sweetness you get from Robinsons, but it still makes a decent alternative. Rating 6.5/10 Tesco Next in line is Tesco, which surprised me with its performance. For just 45p, you can't really grumble too much about this one. Whilst not bursting with flavour, there is plenty of it, and it doesn't overpower either, which can often be an issue with double-strength versions of squash. Rating: 6/10 Asda Asda's orange squash is notably cheaper than Robinson's and all the other brands, retailing for the same price as Tesco. Unfortunately, it didn't taste as good. Perhaps it had a slightly unfair advantage because I tried it further down the list, but in comparison, it tasted like vaguely flavoured water. It completely lacked the punch of orange squash, despite claiming to be double strength. Rating: 3/10 Sainsbury's I am convinced the 49p Sainsbury's bottle of orange squash is identical to the Tesco version. Both have the same packaging, minus the branded sticker, and have the same level of sweetness and fruitiness. Rating: 6/10 Morrisons This 99p orange squash from Morrisons looked more like long-life orange juice rather than an enticing hydrating drink. But once combined with water, the appearance improved. The flavour wasn't the most intense, and it was on the sweet side, but it's still good value for money and does the job while saving a lot compared to big brands. Rating: 5.5/10 Waitrose Expecting big things from the £1.30 Waitrose orange squash, I was sadly disappointed. It was sweet, but lacked flavour. I found the Waitrose squash to be a bit lacking in its orange flavour, not leaving the same fruity aftertaste as the ones from M&S and Robinsons. Rating: 6.5/10 M&S Made with 20% real fruit. M&S' £1.10 squash has one of the largest portions of real fruit, which probably explains the higher price tag, although it is still cheaper than a bottle from Waitrose or the market leader. This one has a more grown-up, authentic flavour and colour than some of the other squashes on the market. It's not too sweet, which may not appeal to little ones as much, but adults may prefer this version; I definitely did. Plus, it does away with sweetener-style aftertastes. Rating: 10/10
Straits Times
14-07-2025
- Straits Times
‘Reporting, to me, was exciting and challenging': Former court correspondent Elena Chong
Ms Elena Chong covered thousands of cases for The Straits Times, from violent crimes to white-collar offences like fraud and embezzlement. Elena Chong, 73 Portrait Ms Elena Chong spent nearly five decades reporting key moments in Singapore's criminal history for The Straits Times. Joining as a cadet journalist in May 1972, she retired as court correspondent in 2018. In the 1970s, she covered high-profile cases such as the Gemini Chit Fund scandal, where executives were accused of misappropriating $3.2 million from a fund with 50,000 members. It was dubbed the 'swindle of the century'. She also reported on the Robinsons department store fire in 1972, which claimed nine lives in one of Singapore's worst fires. Over the years, Ms Chong, now 73, covered thousands of cases, from violent crimes to white-collar offences like fraud and embezzlement. Before journalism, she worked as a stenographer, and her shorthand skills proved invaluable in the courtroom. Recollections 'Reporting, to me, was exciting and challenging. In the early days, we used manual typewriters to write our articles, and had to have three or four carbon copies. After we reported back to the office at Times House in Kim Seng Road, we had to quickly find a typewriter, carry it to our desk and start banging out the story. We would then wait for it to be cleared. Cheong Yip Seng was then the news editor while Wee Kim Wee (later Singapore's fourth president, from 1985 to 1993) was the editorial manager. The police court, located opposite the Central Police Station, was a two-storey building. Two of the courtrooms at the back were like cow sheds, without air-conditioning. We would hang out at the coffee shop in the compound during lunch or tea breaks to chat with fellow reporters from the Chinese press, including Sin Chew Jit Poh and Nanyang Siang Pau. My most memorable and challenging case in the 1980s was a coroner's inquiry in Brunei. I was assigned by my supervisor, Lai Yew Kong, to cover the inquest for former Corrupt Practices Investigation Bureau director Ponniah Rajaratnam. Top stories Swipe. Select. Stay informed. Singapore HSA intensifies crackdown on vapes; young suspected Kpod peddlers nabbed in Bishan, Yishun Singapore Man charged over distributing nearly 3 tonnes of vapes in one day in Bishan, Ubi Avenue 3 Singapore Public healthcare institutions to record all Kpod cases, confiscate vapes: MOH, HSA Singapore Man allegedly attacks woman with knife at Kallang Wave Mall, to be charged with attempted murder Singapore Singapore boosts support for Timor-Leste as it prepares to join Asean Singapore UN aviation and maritime agencies pledge to collaborate to boost safety, tackle challenges Singapore High Court dismisses appeal of drink driver who killed one after treating Tampines road like racetrack Singapore 18 years' jail for woman who hacked adoptive father to death after tussle over Sengkang flat The 68-year-old former deputy police commissioner, who had retired, had been in Brunei to help set up an anti-corruption agency. He was said to have been strangled in a small boat in the coastal town of Muara, about 20km from the capital Bandar Seri Begawan. I covered the case with cameraman Wong Kwai Chow. Every day, at the end of the hearing, I had to send the story to the office via telegram. The week-long inquiry concluded with an open verdict. Another significant period for me was when Singapore Press Holdings set up TVWorks (free-to-air TV channel) in the early 2000s. Reporters had to go for broadcast training and I felt so stressed that I cried. Ultimately, I did 'stand-uppers' at the Subordinate Courts in Havelock Square. Of course, I felt nervous in the beginning, but as the saying goes, practice makes perfect. Eventually, I had the hang of it. It was a good experience and exposure which I will never forget. Imagine seeing yourself on TV! I have written easily thousands of cases over my 40-odd years in journalism, and it's hard to remember all of them. One case which had a strong impact on me was a fatal crash involving a Japanese woman and her child in Alexandra Road. The accused was acquitted. I felt sad at the outcome. But I must say credit went to defence counsel Sant Singh, who has since passed away. He did an excellent job. He, together with the late Subhas Anandan, were veteran criminal lawyers and my favourites.'
Times
06-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Times
Is this the world's poshest cordial?
From jars of chickpeas to non-alcoholic spirits, there's barely a middle-class staple that hasn't been given an upmarket makeover these days but Tom Parker Bowles thinks he has spotted an untapped gap in the market: fruit cordial. He hopes to do for barley water and squash what Fever-Tree did for tonic water. He has teamed up with his old friend Jolyon Fenwick to produce a new range of premium cordials, which they want to become the tipple of choice for non-tipplers. 'So many of our friends have stopped drinking, or are drinking less, and they are fed up with being offered just sparkling water or oversweetened bloody elderflower,' he says. 'Everyone says there must be something else.' And here is their answer: Christopher's Premium Cordials, made from pure fruit in three flavours — blackcurrant and blueberry; gooseberry and lime; and Sicilian lemon and redcurrant — and with a distinctly premium price tag of £11.50 for 350ml. 'It's democratic luxury,' says Fenwick, 53, an Old Etonian art dealer who lives in a cottage in the grounds of Cornwell Manor in the Cotswolds, one of the finest private estates in the country. Parker Bowles, of course, is the son of the Queen. This is a cordial so posh it could have its own seat in the House of Lords. Nevertheless, the pair may be on to something. Robinsons is the most popular drinks brand in the country, according to YouGov, with Ribena in third place, so there is a deep-rooted affinity with fruit cordials. Most are made from concentrates but Christopher's sources pure juice from farms in the UK and, in the case of the lemons and limes, Italy and Spain. These are mixed with sugar plus various botanicals, including rosemary, sea buckthorn, camomile and lemon verbena. 'You don't taste them in the mix but you'd notice them if they weren't there,' says Fenwick, who did most of the R&D in his cottage kitchen. Nowadays he heads to the 'lab' in Leicestershire 'to do the Man from Del Monte bit' and approve each batch. 'Because so much of the sweetness comes from the fruit's natural sugars, they are much less cloying,' he adds. • Read more restaurant reviews and recipes from our food experts The name, the William Morris-style woodcut design on the bottle labels and the hedgerow flavours are all designed to suggest a certain kind of Englishness, of shady bowers, babbling brooks and the sound of leather on willow. 'It has a roundness. It's posh but not threateningly so,' Parker Bowles says. 'Oh yes,' Fenwick says in agreement. 'It's certainly not a Combat 18 kind of Englishness.' They concede that it's expensive for a cordial — although Fenwick points out that it is so thick, you can dilute it ten to one — but like to see it more as a less expensive alternative to non-alcoholic 'spirits' such as Seedlip or Botivo, which sell for about £30 a bottle. • The King loves cheese on digestives. What do top chefs snack on? Their best customer to date, perhaps not surprisingly, is the Queen. 'The lemon one's her favourite,' Parker Bowles says. 'Very sweetly, she will support everything I do, obviously, but she is genuinely obsessed. During Ascot week she drank it all the time. Despite popular myth she very rarely drinks alcohol. I couldn't speak on behalf of the King but she is very straight, to the point where if she didn't like it, she would say so.' With their impeccable contacts (the finance has been provided by George Ward, husband of Charlotte Tilbury, the make-up entrepreneur) it is already stocked in Fortnum's and Daylesford, and is available at Claridge's Hotel. As a restaurant critic, Parker Bowles is busy putting it under the noses of chefs, who he hopes will incorporate it into dishes. 'It makes an excellent blackcurrant ripple ice cream,' Fenwick avers. The other potential they see for it is in cocktails. 'We could have the Hitch, after Christopher Hitchens, the CMJ, after Christopher Martin-Jenkins,' Fenwick says, warming to the theme. 'Or I've always wanted to be the Bernie Ecclestone of croquet and bring it to television for the ultimate posh TV. You could have dry stone walling in the afternoon and then croquet held at all these posh houses in the evening, all sponsored by Christopher's. Or a box at Lord's …' So, really not posh at all.
Telegraph
30-06-2025
- General
- Telegraph
Water in first or last? The perfect way to make a glass of squash
There are few certainties in life, but this much is true: if you want to start a row at a picnic, ask whether you should pour orange squash into the glass before or after the water. Like milk or tea first in a proper brew, or cream on a scone before jam, it's a point on which polite society starts to twitch. According to Robinsons, purveyors of squash since 1823 and likely the focus of many squash squabbles, it's water first. Yes, truly. 'Water first, and then you can add as much or as little squash as you want,' a Robinsons spokesperson says. 'Taste it and if you feel it needs to be a bit stronger, you can amend it that way.' The idea that water should precede the squash is, for many, hard to swallow. Niall Stuart, a Telegraph reader who jokingly floated the idea, might be surprised to learn that Robinsons recommends the method, the reason being that it's easier to get the taste just right if you add more squash rather than extra H2O. Whether that theory holds water (pardon the pun) is arguable, but Robinsons assures me it's not a niche concern. 'It's a long-standing debate,' the spokesperson says. 'People email in and call about that very question.' For those who insist that squash goes in first, it's a matter of control. Miriam Nice, a food and drink writer and co-author of The Art of Drinking Sober (Seven Dials, £12.99), is firmly in that camp. 'I've always put the squash – or cordial for that matter – in the glass first, because you can see how much you're adding,' she says. 'That for me would be the concern in terms of flavour.' But, intrigued by the prospect of upending a lifelong habit, she asked her obliging husband to run a mini experiment. He made two identical drinks – one starting with grenadine, a non-alcoholic syrup used in cocktails, the other with water – and Nice drank them not knowing which was which. She was expecting there to be no visible difference, but the syrup had sunk to the bottom of the drink made with water first. 'I'm sure if you stirred it up this wouldn't be an issue, but pouring [the syrup] in afterwards can inhibit the integration of the two liquids,' she says. 'But I had two lovely drinks made for me. So, yay science!' Pev Manners, managing director of Belvoir Farm which manufactures a wide range of fruit drinks and cordials, also adds water second. 'I always start with cordial in the bottom of the glass first because then you can see how much you are using,' he says. Manners has cordial in his blood. His mother, Lady Mary Manners, began making elderflower cordial from the family's garden flowers in the 1980s, long before it became fashionable. What started as a homegrown effort for friends and local farm shops evolved into Belvoir Farm, now one of Britain's best-known cordial producers, making drinks ranging from the original classic elderflower to cucumber and mint. And as someone who's spent decades working with both, he's well placed to weigh in on that other controversy: the pecking order of concentrated fruit drinks. Manners says there's typically 25 per cent to 55 per cent fruit juice in a cordial, while squash can contain as little as 10 per cent. 'That's why cordial turns up in cocktails,' he explains. 'The fruit content gives that wickedly fruity taste and doesn't dilute your drink.' It might also explain why cordial is often viewed as posher than squash. Nice, meanwhile, sees more creative potential in cordial because it tastes fruitier. 'I've made cordials with all sorts of fruits and spices, varied the type of sugar and used a whole variety of ingredients like beetroot or courgette in the mix,' she says. She has a top tip for the cordial connoisseur: try making the drink with still water, and carbonating it yourself. 'To my surprise the flavour was better integrated than if you add cordial to already carbonated water,' Nice says. There's also the matter of how much water to add. 'Cordial is usually one-part cordial to eight-parts water. Squash is one-part squash to four-parts water,' Manners says. Of course, as with everything else in this debate, feel free to choose your own adventure. But is it just the lower fruit content that gives squash… how to put it… a less sophisticated reputation? Many of us remember it as a staple of childhood, an inexpensive drink poured into plastic tumblers and served with a couple of custard creams if you were lucky. Nice remembers discovering her squash devotion early. 'I remember clearing out a drawer as an adult, at my parents' house and finding a certificate from the Vimto fan club that I had signed, probably aged four or five, which was a lovely discovery.' Is there a touch of snobbery in the mix too? Perhaps that's why Robinsons came up with Fruit Creations, a drink that contains more fruit than squash but less than cordial, neatly straddling the gap between playground staple and grown-up refreshment. 'It's slightly more exotic, with slightly more sophisticated flavours,' the Robinsons spokesman agrees. Who would have thought a splash of squash could cause so much trouble? Cordial or squash, water first or last, Britain's most unassuming drink might also be one of its most contentious.
Spectator
18-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Spectator
Heaven is Angel Delight
I once heard an American complain that, being married to an Englishwoman, he was regularly baffled by the contents of his kitchen cupboards – salad cream, Ambrosia custard and Robinsons barley water. It was 'like industrial processed food but from the Shire'. It is probably this quality of baffling foreigners that allegedly enabled drug runners to use sachets of Angel Delight – the ultimate English ultra-processed food, surely to be found on many a table in Hobbiton, if only for second dinner – to smuggle cocaine into Indonesia. What could be more natural than an Englishman carrying real artificial flavours in his luggage so he didn't have to make do with nasi goreng and chicken satay? (When I went to Japan for a year, my luggage was filled with proper tea bags.) The Balinese police have, however, got wise to their MO, and three Britons have appeared in court charged with drug smuggling, for which they could face execution by firing squad if found guilty. Angel Delight was invented in 1967 in the research department of Bird's in Banbury – right in the heart of the Shire. The market research showed that there was a demand for a bland, creamy-textured instant pudding; and, of course, the dessert company bosses didn't get where they are today without knowing a good thing when they see one. It hit sales of £2 million in the first year. I'd be lying if I said that it tastes as good as I remember it; but whenever I eat Angel Delight I am taken back to my childhood in the 1970s. It's not the flavour in itself – back then, Bird's experimented with blackcurrant, peach and coffee-and-walnut flavours, which have rightly been consigned to the memory hole – so much as the memory of a midweek treat. No one ever planned to have Angel Delight, so there was never any burden of expectation on it; and we would often be 'allowed' to make it ourselves, which made it taste even sweeter than an Arctic roll from the freezer compartment. Attempts to add to it – I have heard tales of crumbling flakes over the chocolate version, or taking a blowtorch to demerara sugar over butterscotch for Angel Delight brûlée – only take that memory away. (I am not even going to mention the decadence of ready-made pots which I saw in the supermarket last week.) The chef Kirk Haworth, winner of The Great British Menu, says that it is the combination of all these factors that gives Angel Delight its power: from the colour and the 'mainstream' flavours to its being 'very attractive textually on the palate', along with the fact that you don't need to be a chef to make it. And, he says, everyone comes back to the first flavours that entered their palate. Last year, as part of a project to reinvent nostalgic classics, his evolution of Angel Delight was as a drink: 'We aerated the flavours, and then we made the colours with desiccated coconut; it was playful and inner-childish but super light and fluffy, when we put gas into the mixture, almost like air.' Kirk runs Plates London, a Michelin-starred restaurant in Old Street, with his sister Keeley. He has no children, but his sister does; has he introduced them to the delights of Delight? He pauses. 'No.'
