You've heard of “catfish” – a fake online identity adopted by someone who wants to deceive or scam other people. Transparent Ketchup was a “snackfish” and Benji is the UK's number one snackfisher. Benji's Instagram account—UK Snack Attack—is home to pistachio-flavored Coco Pops, pickle-shaped Haribo, mint Coca-Cola, ice cream Pringles, and butter Oreos.

It all started with Rare Fantas. In 2019, Benji and his university mates enjoyed “creating a little ceremony” of seeking out imported Fanta flavors and tasting them. From there, the computing student became obsessed with finding “weird” snacks, which he posted on his personal Instagram page. “I realized that maybe I should stop annoying my friends by posting snaps, so I moved it to my own account,” says Benji, who asked WIRED not to disclose his surname for privacy reasons. .

Benji's description was pretty straightforward – he would go to stores and take pictures of new foods. “But then the lockdown happened, and going to the supermarket and handling food was not a good experience,” he says. So instead of cherishing the food, he started cooking it. After following an online recipe for white chocolate Nutella, Benji began making different chocolate spreads every weekend – online, he called it Spread Saturday. A self-taught Photoshopper, Benji also created fake labels for his creations. But then one day a company he was copying sent him a message that essentially said: “Hey, can you tell this isn't real? We are getting a lot of messages to buy it!”

Image contains cans and tin cans

These chocolate-dipped Pringles aren't real, but Benji posts recipes for many of his homages.

Cup blades in image may be knives and weapons

Benji's Nutella variants range from pistachio (pictured here) to red velvet cake to coconut.

Picture may contain food and ketchup

This fake Heinz Tomato Ketchup clear bottle is actually filled with hair gel.

Photography: Rowan Fee

And thus snackfishing was born. “In some ways, I Desired To trick people online,” admits Benji. “I'm not going to pretend it wasn't like that.” But in the case of Zoom, Benji is not a troll at all; He has a gentle manner, wire-framed glasses and a casual woolen look. When the world came out of lockdown, Benji started placing his snackfish in stores, and filmed himself pulling them from the shelves. At first, Benji's friends and family were shocked. “Are you okay? Is it normal to do this?” But he soon joined in, and when he reached 200,000 followers his mother and grandmother took him out for afternoon tea.

Today, Benjy adds disclosures to every post (“These don't exist!”) to avoid disappointing people and to stay on the right side of multinational groups. He also posts “Snacksexclusive” news about actual upcoming snacks that have been leaked elsewhere online, which brands are less than happy with – some have sent him cease-and-desist notices.

When Benji comes up with an idea for a new snack, sometimes he'll completely Photoshop it out, but if he thinks it's possible he'll sit down and create it for real. He's eaten Milkybar-dipped Pringles (one commenter demanded to know which store they were in) and munched on Werther's Original chocolate bars. He dreams of one day creating his own snackfish recipe book, but the “real dream” would be to have a snackfish brought to life by a company. “This would be great — some dumb flavor I've thought about, and then suddenly everyone can try it.”

Ultimately, clear ketchup and lemon Nutella may never have existed, and snackfishing probably won't make Benji rich or famous — he hasn't actually made any money from his account. Still, he doesn't really mind. “I don't want it to feel like a job; I love doing that,” he says, adding that his “day is by numbers,” so making fake foods provides a creative outlet. “For me it's just a little hobby. As long as I enjoy making it, I'm happy.”

This article first appeared in the January/February 2025 edition of WIRED UK magazine.

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