Yoghurts were dead exotic once upon a time. Though limited of flavour (strawberry, hazelnut, ‘fruits of the forest’ . . . er, that’s it) there was something daringly European about the likes of Ski that made on-the-turn milk extremely popular. For children the best yoghurts, undoubtedly, were Prize, and that was mainly down to the adverts, which were textbook ‘so, how on earth do we sell this?’ Anthropomorphic fun. Heroic animated tubs of the stuff – dubbed ‘the Prize guys’ – leapt into various melodramatic ‘damsel in distress’ situations to see off the thin and weedy villain yoghurts, before peeling off their lids to reveal temptingly chunky innards, and walking off with the rescued damsels, which were represented by, er, spoons.