On Being Cheated as a Kid (no mom this is not about your and dad's parenting)

At an early age my parents taught me the love of chocolate; my father used to eat a piece of dark chocolate after breakfast, no foolin'. I loved pretty much all things chocolate, except when folk would ruin it with a banana.

Fast forward to divinity school days. One long weekend myself, the wife and another couple went to Toronto. We walked up and down the streets and went into several candy shops, as my friend looked for PEZ dispensers. When I first walked into a Canadian candy shop I it was more than I could take, all these candies with cool wrappers and difference confections. I bought one of everything and put them in a special bag to delight myself once we were back in the states.
(side story: as we drove back to the states I heard an odd ruffle of a bag from the back seat, I turned around only to discover that my wife had opened each candy bar to sample each. I was livid, for several days {she would say months, if not years}).

I have always felt cheated that as a kid I never was able to sample and enjoy British style chocolates. Imagine the memories reignited when I read this article in The Times this week asking which is better: US or UK candy bars, no question the brits win hands down.