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Who Are You From ‘Sherlock’ Based On Your Food Preferences?

Hey Sherlock fans! Ever thought about which character you are most like? Now you can discover that based on food choices! This fun quiz asks about favorite eats and dining quirks. We will match you with a character from Sherlock. Are you a detective like Sherlock? Or a foodie like Molly? Hit 'Start' below to find out!

Welcome to Quiz: Who Are You From 'Sherlock' Based On Your Food Preferences

Sherlock is a crime drama set in London. It follows adventures of genius detective Sherlock Holmes and his buddy Dr. John Watson. They tackle tricky, dangerous cases. Great cast, sharp writing and eye-popping visuals make this show a hit. Fans of crime and mystery just can’t get enough. It’s like a puzzle that keeps you guessing. You will love it!

Meet the characters from Sherlock

Mrs. Hudson

Mrs. Hudson is the kind of landlady who can bake you a pie and then quietly tell you off for leaving a cigarette on the windowsill — charming and slightly terrifying in the best way. She’s endlessly practical, has an impressive memory for everybody’s odd habits, and will pretend not to care about drama while absolutely keeping receipts (literal and emotional). There’s this cozy, fussing energy about her but also a surprising streak of steel — don’t cross her, unless you want passive-aggressive tea. She says she hates fuss but secretly keeps a drawer full of ribbons and emergency biscuits, which is somehow both comforting and slightly suspicious.

Mary Watson

Mary is the friend who looks like she belongs at a garden party until she casually disarms a situation with the efficiency of someone who once did dangerous things for a living. Sweet and stubborn in equal measure, she can make you laugh and then leave you wondering what she doesn’t want you to know — mysterious, but maternal. There’s a fierce protectiveness there, and also a delightfully mundane side: she bakes like a saint and can shoot like a demon (okay, not a demon, but you get the picture). She claims to be all about normal life but keeps weird little survival trinkets in her purse, which is both practical and oddly romantic.

Eurus Holmes

Eurus is utterly compelling in a way that makes your skin prickle; brilliant, unsettling, and occasionally childlike, she plays with rules the rest of us didn’t even notice existed. Cold and enigmatic on purpose, she can flip from vacant boredom to terrifying clarity in a blink — like a riddle wrapped in porcelain. Somehow she loves music and dolls and also the precise, almost clinical dismantling of people’s expectations, which is unnerving but fascinating. There’s a tiny, almost human yearning buried under layers of cunning, though whether it’s redemption or something darker nobody can say.

Greg Lestrade

Lestrade is the cop who actually gets things done and then buys everyone takeout as a reward, bless him — loyal, exasperated, and quietly heroic. He has this exhausted-but-steadfast energy, like someone who’s been up too long and still turns up on time to hold the line. He appreciates ordinary comforts (pasty, cardboard coffee, a flicker of optimism) and he genuinely cares about the people in his messy orbit, even if he grumbles about it. He’s not flashy, he doesn’t pretend to be, but he’s the backbone when chaos arrives — with a slightly embarrassing tie and a better heart than his wardrobe suggests.

Molly Hooper

Molly is painfully sweet and shy on the surface but has this fierce, quietly defiant courage that sneaks up on you like a cat who knows exactly where to sit on your papers. Awkward in crowds but oddly fearless in labs, she mixes tenderness with an almost forensic obsession to get things right — and she has a soft spot for unusual teas and terrible jokes. She seems delicate, keeps a stuffed animal in her drawer, and then does the bravest things when it actually counts, which makes her impossible not to root for. Also, she somehow remembers everyone’s birthdays and probably has a spreadsheet for feelings, but don’t ask her about it unless you want an earnest, tearful PowerPoint.

Mycroft Holmes

Mycroft exists in that smug, omniscient space where government efficiency meets private-cruelty — impossibly clever, unruffled, and always in control (or at least he thinks he is). He adores bureaucracy almost erotically and has strong opinions about tea — which is basically a political statement for him — and yet he can be unexpectedly fond, like a giant, officious teddy bear with a Venn diagram of secrets. He’s lazy in the physical sense but mentally restless and terrifyingly ruthless when policy is on the line: emotionally distant but sometimes absurdly protective. There’s an odd, contradictory warmth if you catch him off-guard, which none of the manuals will tell you about.

Jim Moriarty

Moriarty is pure, theatrical chaos with a smile — the kind of villain who treats crime like performance art and bad puns like philosophy. He delights in making things personal, plays games with people’s minds, and has a taste for the dramatic (and possibly terrible coffee) — utterly charismatic and deeply, deliciously unhinged. You never quite know if he’s joking or dead serious, which is the point, and he adores being both horrifying and, infuriatingly, a bit charming. There’s a near-childish love of puzzles underneath it all, and somehow a streak of genuine loneliness that makes his nastiness oddly tragic.

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock is the furious, brilliant mind that notices the shoe scuff nobody else sees and then lectures you about it for an hour — brilliant, blunt, and impossibly compelling. He lives for the puzzle, has questionable bedside manners, and a baffling relationship with food (cold coffee, occasional gourmet obsessions, and definitely more tobacco than is strictly legal). He’s emotionally selective — cold as a scalpel with strangers but weirdly tender with those he trusts — and he does this irritating thing where he knows exactly how to be infuriating and fascinating at the same time. Brilliantly messy, supremely confident, and occasionally heartbreakingly human when he actually lets the mask slip.

John Watson

John is the steady, warm heartbeat in the chaos — reliable, grumpy in the cutest way, and endlessly loyal, like someone’s reluctant but proud older brother. He found room in his life for trust and humor after the army, loves a proper meal (pies, stews, lots of gravy) and also has an inexplicable fondness for sensible shoes. Brave, often the voice of reason, and annoyingly sentimental, he keeps everyone grounded and will get unnecessarily furious on principle, which is adorable and terrifying. He tells stories like a proud father and will defend his friends to the end, even if he complains about the whole affair the entire time.