EXTRA – PEPPERMINT I didn’t even need to buy and expense a pack of Wrigley’s Extra Peppermint for this review, because I keep this stuff on my person at all times. It is, as the young people say, my jam. My go-to chew. Want to know why? Well, according to Wrigley’s online marketing material, not only does this stuff “give you that fresh kiss confidence” – confidence my wife presumably appreciates – it also helps you focus and work better. It’s sugar-free, not overly pepperminty, and apparently endorsed by the Australian Dental Association. What more do you need? It has one additional perk, which is that, if you’re on your way to the dentist and you’ve forgotten to brush your teeth, you can chew this stuff to fish out any errant bits of sushi stuck between your molars. Nine out of 10 dentists can’t tell the difference. JS

TRUE GUM – MANGO Most chewing gum is essentially plastic… isn’t that terrifying? I feel like I knew this, but pushed the thought of the microplastics I’m no doubt ingesting aside because I can’t imagine a life without gum and WE’RE ALLOWED TO HAVE SOME JOY IN THIS WORLD, AREN’T WE? But now with a pack of ‘plastic-free’ gum in my hot little hands, I’m forced to admit I essentially have a plastic addiction. Copenhagen-made True Gum to the rescue? Let’s see. The actual gum looks a little more rustic, like the nubs of white chalk you could barely hold on to when you’d been drawing on the footpath all day as a kid. As far as the chewing experience goes, it doesn’t have the same bounce as the synthetic gum I’m used to, but it’s still satisfying. The chewiness is, wildly, sap from the Mexican sapodilla tree. I think I might be a convert. EN

5GUM – BLUEBERRY RUSH 5GUM is clearly pitched at young, adventurous types. Which I am not. People for whom chewing gum somehow forms an integral part of their psychosocial identity. Its promotional material sounds like it was written by Nike. “5 is about the exhilaration we feel when we choose to explore beyond the familiar,” it says. “To step into the unknown.” Calm down guys, you sell chewing gum. This isn’t an Everest expedition. 5 Blueberry Rush is flat and long and takes up most of your tongue, like the chewing gum in ’90s American sitcoms. It’s called ‘5’ because it’s named after the five human senses (and apparently contains five calories per stick). It’s only a shame that a chewing gum named after the senses should have neglected to remember one of them: taste. Arguably the most important sense, when it comes to, you know, food. This stuff tastes like cough medicine and toddler sick. JS

WRIGLEY'S – P.K “If I’m ever perched inside a kissing booth, I need P.K.” This is what I grew up thinking thanks to the ’90s P.K ad, where there’s a stereotypically beautiful babe in a kissing booth at a country fair, downing whole pickled onions. No one wants to kiss her until a bowl of P.K mysteriously appears in front of her. Then the lucky gal has all the men in town line up to smooch her once-oniony, now-pepperminty mouth. “If I ever want masses of dumpy farmers in slacks and Akubras to share saliva with me, I must have a bowl overflowing with P.K by my side.” I know that’s what I’m supposed to think, but tell me why I’m instead buying a 16L vat of pickled onions? No try-hard cowboy with sheep shit on their shoes is coming anywhere near my mouth, thank you! I stayed in the city while I tested this gum. EN

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