Chocolate.
Just saying the word
brings to mind stolen moments of bliss, sitting in a corner, in a car, in bed,
savoring a truffle, a piece of fine dark chocolate, a Hershey bar. Just like
there’s no wrong way to eat a Reese’s, there’s nothing you can do to ruin a
fine bar of chocolate.
Or at least that’s
what I thought.
Until last week.
One of my good
friends, knowing I was having a stressful week littered with mines called “deadlines,”
dropped off several bars of chocolate to help fuel my brain and ease my
consternation. Looking at the wrappers, I knew she had taken some time and care
before making her selections. The bars were not cheap. They were also organic
(although I’m not fussy). They were waiting for me when I staggered back to my
desk following back-to-back meetings about topics I know nothing about and care
about even less. I spotted the bars on my desk and alighted on the first one,
clutching it in my desperate hand. Doing a quick sweep of the room to make sure
no one had seen the confection on my desk, I opened my drawer and swept the
other two out of sight. Then, leaning back in my ergonomic office chair, I
unwrapped the bar in my hand and took a huge bite.
And promptly spit
it out.
Simply put, it was
AWFUL. I smoothed the wrapper out to see what this chocolate was made of. The
label read: 85% cacao (okay, it’s really really dark. I can live with that).
The label continued: Contains: chunks of crystallized ginger.
WTF???
Crystallized
ginger??? Why, in name of all that is sacred in the world, would anyone put
crystallized ginger in chocolate? I grabbed my cup of 6 hour old coffee and
chugged, trying to get the taste of said ginger out of my mouth. I loathe
ginger on principal. The fact that it somehow sneaked into my mouth via an
innocent piece of chocolate makes it more vile.
Looking for
respite, now, I yanked open the drawer and pulled out the other two bars. One
was milk chocolate with chai. Chai. That’s Middle Eastern tea. Hmm…. I eyed the
chocolate.
Dare I try it? I finally decided to give it a go, thinking it couldn’t
be any worse than the dark chocolate with ginger.
It was just as bad.
After washing my
mouth out with even more 6 hour old coffee, I threw the two opened bars of
chocolate away and placed the third bar on a table we affectionately call “Ingestation.”
It was formally known as the “trough”. Any food that gets placed there disappears
within moments. Picture a cloud of locusts descending upon crops and decimating
said crops in mere seconds. You get the idea.
A week has passed.
That chocolate bar is still sitting at the Ingestation.
Seems even
broadcast engineers with cast-iron stomachs steer clear of chocolate with
questionable things added to it. Or maybe we’re just not sophisticated enough
to enjoy it.
Eh. I don’t even
want to find out.
Just pass me the
Snickers and shut up.
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