How to eat: Nutella
The subject of heists in Germany and chaos in French supermarkets, blessed by the high priests of the kitchen pass (Nigella, Yotam) but also slathered on chips in Aberdeen, Nutella’s popularity knows no bounds.
It is less a hazelnut chocolate spread (other brands are available but, honestly, have you ever tried them?) than a global phenomenon. One that has turned its Italian parent company, Ferrero, into a circa €12bn-a-year business, created a secondary market in jar locks and resonates in the news cycle in endlessly unexpected ways: from the pre-match snacking of Brentford FC midfield “machine” Vitaly Janelt to (and, no, the date on this is not 1 April) plans to sterilise Britain’s grey squirrel population.
With the exception of the Guardian’s own Felicity Cloake – a heretic who recommends making your own – Nutella is seemingly irresistible to humans and animals alike. Not bad for a creation whose origins lie, twice over, in war, privation and improvisation. Napoleonic trade bans restricted cocoa’s availability in 19th-century Piedmont, inspiring the first gianduja or gianduiotto blends with local hazelnuts. In similar circumstances after the second world war, the Ferrero family created its own cocoa and hazelnut mix which, in 1964, became the easily spreadable SuperCrema version of Nutella which – recipe tweaks aside – we know today.
The smooth brand has encountered bumps in the road. But, since 2015, criticism of Nutella’s use of palm oil has largely subsided after the then French environment minister, Ségolène Royal, was forced into an embarrassing public apology. Royal had called for a Nutella boycott but, among others, Greenpeace leapt to Ferrero’s defence, stating that it is leading the way in terms of sustainability, transparency and regulation of palm oil production. Ferrero (which says it uses just 0.3% of global palm oil each year) was the best-rated manufacturer on the 2020 WWF Palm Oil Scorecard.
There are other reasons, perhaps, to not wantonly scarf Nutella. It is 56.3% sugar and 80 calories per 15 grams (not unlike jams, for reference). So, if it is best enjoyed as an infrequent indulgence you had better optimise your use of it. That is where How to Eat – the series exploring how to wring maximum pleasure from Britain’s favourite foods – can help. Welcome to the Nutella hierarchy.
Acceptable applications
Cold, from the jar
“DO NOT STORE IN THE FRIDGE” orders the label, bossily. But for an exceptional Nutella experience, ignore that. It’s true: in the fridge, Nutella hardens into a solid, user-unfriendly lump. But, perversely, unlike most foods (which, flavour-wise, come alive as they warm; it’s a volatile compounds thing), Nutella is most exquisite served cold. Silky smooth, melting instantly in the mouth, its ganache-like quality – rich, dense, intense, layered – is one which, in Michelin-starred restaurants is only achieved at great cost in time, money and emotional anguish. Here it is in a jar, £1.70 for 200g. True, you might have to wrap a tea towel around your hand to help you hack at the hardened Nutella with a spoon. Also true: once you discover refrigerated Nutella you might find it difficult to ever go into the kitchen again without eating it. But licked from a teaspoon, slowly – go full “tantric chocolate’, here – it is sensational. Where warm Nutella is slightly too sickly sweet, cooling it punches up its nuttiness so that (dangerously), it is far more moreish. It makes the idea of putting Nutella on anything seem almost redundant.
Ice-cream
From Calpol syringes to caramel-based sauces, a surprising amount of energy is expended online trying to render Nutella in a pourable form. Heating it in a bowl of hot water or microwaving it (try 15- to 20-second increments), will produce a runnier consistency if not a pouring sauce exactly. Do not be tempted to hammer it in the microwave for minutes on end. Instead of a sauce, you will end up with a smouldering, carbonised chunk that could pass as recently landed asteroid debris. However, in HTE’s opinion, heating Nutella is a retrograde step. Warmed, Nutella has a thinner texture and a narrower flavour profile. Better to simply spoon room-temperature Nutella on to vanilla ice-cream, and accept it won’t quite ooze into its crevices but will taste of more. A smaller two-scoops-and-a-blob serve is wise: too much Nutella and ice-cream gets cloying quick. The cold temperatures and all that fat in the mouth means the Nutella does not quite sing with the full fervour it does when served au naturel, but it definitely works in a quick dessert kind of way.
Toast
Eating Nutella on anything but the most bland, white Chorleywood bread is an act of deep self-loathing. Worthy brown, seeded and/or wholemeal throw gritty bran into what should be the smooth-gear interaction of butter and Nutella. Yet, somewhat contradictorily (and unlike the banana and Nutella sandwich, below), eating Nutella plain on untoasted white sliced creates a juvenile, sweet, gummy mouthful that quickly gets nauseating. Toasted white bread is much better. Toasting dials down the bread’s sweetness, gives it a tempering, savoury edge. But, in truth, compared with what is possible in the banana sandwich, it’s all a bit one-note.
Banana and Nutella sandwich
A symphony of flavours that interact with rare mutual sympathy. The bread must be soft, white, milky and thin. Do not toast it. The banana adds lubrication and freshness that makes toasting unnecessary, damaging even. The flavours interlock such that the butter’s saltiness is emphasised which, in turn, seems to bring a new brightness and contrast to the Nutella. Meanwhile, the banana, as well as creating layers of differential creaminess with the butter, acts as a palate-cleansing reset at the end of each mouthful, refreshing the sandwich in a way that means it works, without becoming too much, to the last bite. Note: do not be tempted to trowel on butter and chocolate spread. A thin screed of each is ideal.
Ill-advised applications …
Croissant
Not the worst way to eat Nutella. But, texturally, HTE prefers to eat its croissant with a few squares of block chocolate. All but the freshest, most lubricious croissant will become a slog if larded with gluey Nutella.
Waffles and/or French toast
Bafflingly rich, sweet, stodgy foods. The addition of Nutella, even more so than whipped cream, compounds this problem. “Galumphing, maximalist cooking that makes you long for delicacy, refinement and finesse,” says HTE, the column that eats Nutella straight from the jar.
Pancakes
Treat the laciest French crepe to a thin layer of Nutella and that works. But a big pile of thick, US-style pancakes, smothered in Nutella? That’s a clag-fest of rapidly diminishing returns.
As a dip for fresh fruit
That has an unmistakable, unappealing 1970s feel. Dipping fruit into softened Nutella brings two great things together and ruins both. Although it is not as leftfield as serving chocolate spread on a charcuterie board to pair with the cheese. Or adding it to a grilled cheese sandwich.
On a sweet pizza
No. The end. Never. And don’t come at HTE with obscure Italian dessert pizza traditions, as if that justifies anything. This is not a matter of authenticity, it is a matter of common sense.
When
Served straight from the spoon? Then likely every time you walk into the kitchen. You have been warned. Otherwise, Nutella works any time – breakfast (toast); dinner (banana sandwich); tea (ice-cream) – you feel that Covid-19/late-stage capitalism/life is squeezing your skull to the extent that you need a momentary lift, a boost, a jolt of pleasure to remind you you are alive.
Drink
A huge mug of tea: a titanic tidal wave of tannins to sluice the decks clean of all that sugar and fat. Nutella and a decent brew are true comrades.
So, Nutella, how do you eat yours?
