Dan Grennan risks becoming a causality in Joe Wicks’ war on ultra-processed food as he bites into the ‘turd brick’ protein bar the fitness guru warns may cause premature death
Stroke, cancer and diarrhoea – the risks of eating Joe Wicks’ protein bar were clear. But the threat of premature death has never stopped me from achieving my goals – informing the glorious Daily Star readers.
Armed with a two litre bottle of water and the moxie of a man approaching middle age with reckless abandon, I tore open the foil packaging and revealed what looked like a turd brick deposited by a consumer of sweetcorn. Dear reader, I hope you appreciate my sacrifice.
The first thing you notice about the “bar” is just how dense it is. The thing could be flung through a window with ease.
And breaking off the end of it took a lot more of my strength then I anticipated. The cross-section of the “snack” looked like building materials found in the walls of an asbestos-infested flat built in Thatcher’s Britain.
It was time to take the plunge and bite into the “bar”. The texture was dry, dusty and about as hard as concrete. In fact, I nearly left my two front teeth behind when biting into it.
The bar is advertised as chocolate and orange flavoured but the texture is so imposing it is hard to actually experience the taste. Eating it is like chewing on insulation that has been brushed around the floor of a Terry’s Chocolate Orange factory.
The chocolate-orange flavours are but a distant memory of this extreme culinary ordeal. I do not recommend it to anyone.
But the review does not end here, there is still so much to cover – remember the cancer, stroke and diarrhoea warning? After an hour, my body appeared to be struggling to process the endless list of chemicals and ultra-processed ingredients in the bar.
I felt weak, light-headed and overall unwell – like the symptoms at the start of a flu. I was honestly questioning the life decisions that had taken me to this point.
After eight hours, I felt a lot better which I put down to the amount of water I had drank. The worst of the bar was over and Joe Wicks had not defeated me. I was in good spirits.
The next morning I was feeling pretty normal and had no problem in eating my standard breakfast of four boiled eggs. I had not succumb to the risk of cancer, stoke or diarrhoea as the fitness guru had warned.
But do I recommend the snack to anyone? No, I do not.
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