Fifty Shades of Single Origin Chocolate Hell! Shameless fanfiction! Well-written reviews! All of these are things you can not expect to see during our two-week chocolate feature here on Foodette Reviews. However, these things are all superfluous. Who says you need to write well to have a blog, anyway? Let’s get this show on the road, or as they say in America’s current one-handed read of choice, let’s step right into the Red Room of Pain.
I’d seen them from across the room. Every time our eyes met, I could feel my heart stop, not unlike a person having a heart attack, and the blood would rush to my face as I nervously brushed my tongue across my dry, quivering lips.
The very name evoked exoticism, power, and Canadian excellence in chocolate manufacturing. When they spoke, I could feel my body light aflame. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine they’d approach me, unassuming, naive, blogger Jessica Anastasia Me’er Sapphire Push McDonough Potter, a blogger raised on the suburban comforts of Ghiradelli and Lindt.
“Have you ever tasted bubblegum chocolate?” I could feel my hands start to shake as I processed each individual word they said, a smile radiating in the inner core of my brain. I think it was the Lady Antebellum part, near the frontal lobe. I don’t know, I’m a modest English major. Have I ever tasted bubblegum chocolate? To even assume so would be to imply a more worldly palate, impossible as evidenced by my bookish manner and plaintive gaze.
“No,” I said, my inner goddess taking a cold chicken leg from the refrigerator, gnawing on it to her satisfaction and belching loudly, “I’ve…never really had flavored chocolate before.” Hagensborg reared up, its winsome, yet regal logo proud and taught across its package…ing. I could feel it unwrapping before my eyes, trusting me, unveiling itself, a creamy, white thickness emblazoned with little pigs, proud and tall, waiting to reveal the pink fondant goo inside.
“Wait…the bubblegum…the bar,” I faltered, teetering on the precipice of my old life, a life condemned to flavors bound by the constraints of sugar-free and cacao percentages, and this extension of grace from Hagensborg. Peanut butter and jelly in a chocolate? Mint chocolate chip? How did that even work? There were so many things I was an infant to, and yet, so much to risk. “Is it dangerous?”
Hagensborg snorted, the magnificent bar between us like a vast, sweet landscape. “No, my love, it’s a confection. It can’t hurt you.” And with that, I plunged the truffle pig into my mouth, white chocolate and gummy fondant trickling down my chin. It was sweeter than I expected, but not overly sweet. I groaned in pleasure as I felt the creaminess of the chocolate mingling with the sweet, citrus-tinged sensuality of the bubblegum.
I gazed at Hagensborg with pleading eyes as my tongue encountered something small, a foreign object, and Hagensborg chuckled as I discovered what it was. Bubblegum! This powerful company, this misunderstood genius had placed bubblegum inside the bar for it was the intention of Hagensborg to woo me all along, to take me back to a blissful, carefree childhood with bubblegum, bubbles, My Little Pony, and the 90’s, am I right, guys? They really did love me! Providing a sweet crunch and brilliant contrast to the smooth, seductive chocolate base, I chewed and swallowed, dazed with satisfaction and internalized validation. Such a masterful technique, such precise textures and flavors.
The bar was so sweet and vibrant, a lush pink, that I had to ask something that had been nagging at me since I’d laid eyes on Hagensborg. “Is it…” I stumbled, and they answered for me, “Yes, my sweet, it’s all natural,” gazing at the bar between us, and I groaned in ecstasy. It was at that very moment that I knew I would be back to sample more of Hagensborg, more of this tortured and intelligent figure in my life, and I could sense that my fate and future would be inextricably changed for the better…no…for the chocolate….
To be continued…