At some point in my life, when I was young, I realized that there was a hierarchy to those Hershey minis bags. While there are only 4 types in there, it wasn’t like they were all equal. There was a chocolate ghetto that some of them belonged to.
- Special Dark
- Mr. Goodbar
- Crappy ass awful regular Hershey
This was the first time I’d ever been exposed to dark chocolate. Now, I loved that little bit of Special Dark. It’s not the best dark chocolate I’ve ever had, but it was my first. Everyone remembers their first. What drove me nuts, though, is that back when I was young, you really couldn’t find a full sized Special Dark bar. We were in a dark times, where milk chocolate ruled all. Blegh.
I remembered it, though. This dark chocolate stuff was great – it didn’t taste like chalk, it was rich, and it made my teeth tingle. I often describe really, really, dark-as-my-soul chocolate as making my teeth hurt. Lovely Wife has no clue what I’m talking about, but I swear, when I bite into something over 80%, my teeth tingle with delight. They know how awesome it is. My molars say, “Dude, thanks for this. We love it as much as you do. Keep doing this, and make sure you floss. We fucking love it when you floss.”
I’ve already told you how much I love Central Market, the Happiest Place on Earth (screw you, mouse). Something they have there is a chocolate bar… well, more like a chocolate stand. It’s got a bunch of little containers with measured out varieties of chocolate, from different sources and in different concentrations. Uganda 69% (tastes of fruit). Papua New Guinea 75% (notes of whiskey). All in little bite sized morsels. It’s like the Cocoa UN, except it actually matters.
Being Easter season, it’s a season for awful chocolate. I’ve already seen crappy milk chocolate bunnies, duckies and crosses (???). Seriously, a chocolate cross? Jesus died for your sins, so now lets munch down on the symbol of it all? I’m not a religious guy, but that seems just… I don’t know, maybe missing the point of it all.
You walk down the aisles at WalMart, and you’ll see walls of Easter candy. Most of it is just variations on the usual – oh wow, an egg-shaped Snickers. Blown away. Someone pick up my brain, because it’s just freaked out and escaped my head. There is, however, something that comes around only at Easter, and that, my friends, is a true Easter miracle.
Cadbury Mini Eggs.
“But those aren’t the good ones! The good ones are the cream filled ones!” Liar. You’re lying. Does your mother know you lie so much? Shameful.
Those are awful. Those taste like chalk and have the consistency of snot. They are Satan’s chocolate. Why are you eating Satan’s chocolate on Easter? Shame. The Easter Bunny is going to hunt you down and stuff eggs down your throat, Silence of the Lambs style.
These Mini Eggs though – these are awesome. They make a dark chocolate version, but they’re hard to find. The milk chocolate is actually just as good as the regular ones. They’re like M&Ms infused with the magic of the Easter Bunny. They have the a superior candy shell, delicious chocolate, and they’re the best Easter candy ever made. Everything is inferior.
If you love your family, you’ll fill all of your plastic eggs with these. If you don’t, you clearly hate you family. I’ll call CPS on you; denying your family these is basically child endangerment. Even if you don’t have children.
I always stock up on these as if I’m preparing of the Apocalypse. Apparently, when the final battle between good and evil comes, I’ll be bartering my way using delicious chocolate eggs. At least, that’s the plan I have in my head.
I’ll probably just eat them all before then.