Robert Robus on gum

These days, a lot of people seem to chew that wondrous conglomeration of mysterious rubbery ingredients commonly referred to as "gum"--this quite irrespective of whether it take the form of chewing-gum, or bubble-gum, or any other form. And although I, Robert Robus, generally eschew the substance, I will admit that yesterday I did try a piece of Big Fred. It burned in my mouth like a glorious conflagration of intense and smarting richness.

While no chewing product in the history of modern gum-chewing--that is, since Francis R. Gumm invented the substance while working as an adherence consultant for William Burtinson's glue empire in 1883--has ever boasted such potency as to set one's mouth quite literally aflame, this fine product from Sprigley comes exceedingly close to that impressive benchmark. The gum is preposterously spicy; and therein lies its greatest attribute. The flavour itself, while passable, surely cannot be held to exceed a five; and the elasticity, while not entirely absent--as in the case of that piece that adhered itself to my alveolar ridge last Friday and has not budged since--is third-tier at best. Yet the blinding spiciness ultimately redeems Big Fred; its winsome causticity and explosive richness make this chew from Sprigley a gum for the ages.

Remember, my faithful: you heard it first from I.