Tony’s Chocolonely

Nov 24, 2024 | 11 comments

I’m thinking about those Tony’s Chocolonely bars—you know, the ones that have totally rewritten the rules of the high-quality chocolate game. We all love them, don’t we? My personal favourite – if you’re curious – is the milk, caramel and sea-salt.

But it’s not just the chocolate that has won us over – it’s the devilishly clever marketing that comes with it.

Apparently, it’s called Chocolonely to ‘reflect the founder’s feelings of isolation in addressing the injustice in the chocolate industry.’ But is that really the case—or is it just a clever, catchy name?

And then there’s the genius bit. Yes, I see you’ve guessed it – it’s that weird pattern of grooves in the bar itself.

Tony’s explains that the uneven design of their chocolate bars symbolizes the inequality in the cocoa industry. The irregular pieces represent how profits and resources are unevenly distributed along the supply chain. It’s meant as a conversation starter to raise awareness about the exploitation of cocoa farmers and to encourage demand for ethically produced chocolate. Through this, Tony’s aims to inspire meaningful change in the industry.

All of which inclines me to say “Pull the other one.”

Now I don’t wish to question the sincerity of Tony’s in trying to bring about better conditions for cocoa-growers. It is clearly an admirable aim. But to propose it as an explanation for their otherwise inexplicable ‘groove patterning’ just doesn’t seem credible. No, I suspect that the former, worthy-sounding manifesto is intended to distract us from what is really going on: namely a cunning strategy aimed at those primal corners of the brain that light up at the thought of chocolate?

Here’s how it works: You open a bar of Tony’s and try to break off a piece. That’s when the trouble begins. Thanks to the unpredictable groove pattern, you either end up with a piece that’s too small, too big—or worse, two pieces when you only wanted one. Too small? You go back for more. Too big? You eat it anyway. It’s a cycle of surprises in which every ‘session’ with a bar of Tony’s is replete with uncertainty and the promise of entirely fortuitous gratification.

Sheer marketing genius!

If you doubt me, picture this: someone emails Tony’s customer support with the complaint:

“I love your Chocolonely bars, but could you make them easier to break into regular pieces?”

It’s unthinkable, right? The fact is, we all secretly like to live dangerously – if only when eating chocolate.

11 Comments

  1. Dave Mckay

    I need a photo of these ubiquitous bars – they don’t seem to have made it down to SW France yet. 🫤🇫🇷

    Reply
  2. Graham Luetchford

    Never heard of them, but I will expect to sample a piece of the milk/caramel/sea salt when we next meet Dave.

    Reply
    • David Wilson

      OMG … there are people who have never heard of them!

      Reply
  3. Paul Archer

    I often make out that I do not eat chocolate but its a lie when faced with Tony’s Chocolonely. Its great, compulsive chocolate. I like the salted caramel variety too but ignore the grooves. Its too nice to stay polite.

    Reply
    • David Wilson

      How can you ignore the grooves. Do you mean to say you cut it with a knife ?

      Reply
  4. Simon Eeles

    Well I have tried these bars which on occasions circulate about the environs of the sofa in the house of my partner when film watching.
    I haven’t tried all of the varieties on offer, but found myself wondering whether Wormwood had sampled Waitrose own brand of dark chocolate with a salted caramel filling; which frankly I enjoy even more!

    Reply
    • David Wilson

      Well, I’m sure the Waitrose variety is delicious but I imagine it has a regular breakage pattern – meaning you’re missing out on the exciting unpredictability that comes with Tony’s.

      Reply
  5. Simon Bishop

    Dark choccy and hazelnut irresistible!

    Reply
    • David Wilson

      OK … I’ll have to try that one next time

      Reply
  6. Elizabeth Murphy

    You have caught it well Dave, when breaking a piece for yourself. There is an additional challenge when breaking a piece for yourself and another. Who gets the larger piece? There is always a larger piece to create a dilemma. I prefer the quieter life of simple 70% with regular shaped and easy to break off pieces.

    Reply
    • David Wilson

      Ah … where’s your sense of wild adventure ?

      Reply

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