Eostre Candy

I finally get what all those snooty Europeans have been talking about calling our chocolate junk. I am now one of those snobs. My palette has grown too used to high-end dark chocolates from all over The Continent. I am now ruined (forever?) from enjoying Eostre candy.

It's all just so goddamn sweet, and, dare I say, lacking nuance. Real chocolate--the kind where you pronounce the second o (chock-o-laat)--has a natural complexity to it, a life. Once you get up over 58% real chocolate you can start to sense something going on. You let it sit on your tongue and reveal itself. Hints of strange fruits or spices that are infused in the bean, dusty notes as you get up around 78% (any more and you cross over into the realm of baking chocolate). Where it was grown actually means something to dark chocolate.

Good chocolate tells you a story. A delicious, delicious story.

For Eostre I had a King Size Reese's Peanut Butter Egg, a chocolate and almonds bunny, and a Cadbury Cream Egg. You want to know what kind of "story" those things told me?

Here's a big wad of sugar in your mouth! Now shut the fuck up!
The End.