You’ve heard of a “catfish,” a false online identity adopted by someone who wants to deceive or scam other people. Clear ketchup was a “snackfish” and Benji is the UK’s number one snack fisherman. Benji’s Instagram account, UK Snack Attack, is home to pistachio-flavoured Coco Pops, pickle-shaped Haribos, mint Coca-Cola, ice cream Pringles and butter Oreos.
It all started with the rare Fantas. In 2019, Benji and his college roommates had fun seeking out imported Fanta flavors and “doing a little ceremony” to taste them. From there, the computer science student became obsessed with finding “weird” snacks, which he posted on his personal Instagram page. “I realized I should probably stop harassing my friends by posting snacks, so I moved it to his own account,” says Benji, who asked WIRED not to reveal his last name for privacy reasons.
Benji’s account was extremely simple: he went to stores and took photos of new foods. “But then lockdown came and going to the supermarket and handling food wasn’t a great idea,” he says. So instead of fondling the food, he began preparing it. After following an online recipe for white chocolate Nutella, Benji started making different chocolate spreads every weekend – online he called it Spread Saturday. A self-taught photographer, Benji has also made fake labels for his creations. But then one day a company he was imitating sent him a message essentially saying, “Hey, can you say this isn’t real, please? We are receiving many messages asking us to buy it!”
And so snackfishing was born. “In a way, me wanted to fool people online,” Benji admits. “I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t that.” But on Zoom, Benji is nowhere near a troll; he has a gentle manner, wire-rimmed glasses and what looks like a soft fleece . As the world came out of lockdown, Benji started showing off his snackfish in shops, filming himself taking them off the shelves. At first Benji’s friends and family were perplexed. Is this a normal thing to do?” But they were soon on board and his mother and grandmother took him out for afternoon tea when he reached 200,000 followers.
Today, Benji adds information to every post (“THESE DO NOT EXIST!”) to avoid frustrating people and to stay on the right side of multinational conglomerates. He also posts “snacksexclusive” news about real upcoming snacks that have leaked elsewhere online, which brands are less happy about: some have sent him cease-and-desist notices.
When Benji has an idea for a new snack, he sometimes makes it entirely in Photoshop, but if he thinks it’s possible, he sits down and actually makes it. He munched on Milkybar-coated Pringles (“what store are they in?” asked one commenter) and chewed on a bar of Werther’s Original chocolate. He dreams of one day creating his own snackfish cookbook, but the “real dream” would be to have a snackfish brought to life by a company. “It would be great, a silly flavor I thought of, and then all of a sudden everyone can try it.”
In the end, clear ketchup and lemon Nutella may never exist, and snack-based peach probably won’t make Benji rich or famous: he hasn’t really earned anything from his tab. Yet, he doesn’t really care. “I don’t want it to feel like work; I love doing it,” she says, noting that her “day is all numbers,” so creating fake food offers a creative outlet. “For me, it’s just a little hobby. As long as I’m having fun doing it, I’m happy.
This article first appeared in the January/February 2025 edition of WIRED UK magazine.
