We're all going coconuts for a Bounty bar
It might have been created to whisper seductively of sunshine and sandy beaches, but, on its 75th birthday, the Bounty bar feels distinctly British, says Rob Crossan.
When Nigella Lawson published Nigella Bites in 2001, a minor media storm ensued in the lifestyle supplements, based on one chapter she had titled ‘Trashy’. Featuring recipes based on her love of what, at the time at least, were considered ‘lowbrow’ foods, one of her most surprising creations was a deep-fried Bounty bar with pineapple. Had Lawson gone too far this time?
Perhaps, but it’s hard to imagine her publishing a similar recipe starring a deep-fried Mars bar or KitKat. Since its debut on the confectionery shelves of British grocery stores 75 years ago, the Bounty bar has always had a slight aspirational edge over its competitors, thanks to its chief ingredient. Coconut may be a divisive taste, but Mars’s advertising campaigns have always associated the Bounty with a brand of sun-smothered tropical luxury with which, frankly, the likes of the Double Decker and Toffee Crisp can’t compete.
Forrest Mars, son and heir of Mars founder Frank Mars, drew inspiration from the American Mounds bar, also a coconut-and-chocolate combination, to create a version tailored for the British market. Introduced here in 1951, Bounty arrived in a country still under the carapace of rationing and Britons were immediately appreciative of a treat that promised a life beyond bomb sites and Workers’ Playtime.
'Bounty remains British in spirit. Not because it resembles Britain, but because it embodies our instinctive native desire, usually realised on a drizzly Sunday afternoon in November, to be as far away from home as possible'
You certainly can’t accuse Bounty of losing its identity over the decades. Competitors have flirted with modernity, minimalism and celebrity endorsements, but Bounty has persisted with its palms, sea and sunshine. In the 1970s, the slogan ‘The Bounty Hunters: They Came in Search of Paradise’ turned its fans into adventurers, albeit ones whose greatest hardship was deciding where to tie the hammock.
The blue-wrapped, milk-chocolate version is the most commonly seen, although there was once an alternative, something of a cult item. The dark-chocolate Bounty, long favoured by purists, came in a red wrapper and, to its fans, was a superior product due to the more bitter casing balancing the sweetness of the coconut. However, these admirers were a committed few: in 2023, Mars paused production of the red bars, claiming they had been temporarily delisted ‘for operational reasons’. Three years on and with no sign of its return to the newsagents of Britain, it has to be concluded that the dark-chocolate Bounty has gone the way of winklepickers and the SDP.
Yet there are few chocolate bars that inspire quite such tribal loyalties. One either joins the coconut camp or one does not, with no discernible middle ground. Today, 75 years after its launch, Bounty remains British in spirit. Not because it resembles Britain, but because it embodies our instinctive native desire, usually realised on a drizzly Sunday afternoon in November, to be as far away from home as possible.
