I have an incurable sweet tooth. When faced with a lack of treats in the house, I can often be found getting a brown sugar fix, by the spoonful, straight out of the bag. I’m not saying I’m proud of this. It is simply a fact I share with you in an attempt to relieve my guilty conscience, for fun.
I’ve also been guilty of digging all of the cookie dough out of the cookie dough ice cream, eating refrigerated hot fudge right out of the jar and enjoying caramel sauce with a side of bananas. And when the local ice cream shop gets a shipment of cake batter ice cream, it’s cake batter malt heaven for me.
Of course, eating anything with chocolate in it will likely never occur again, as I haven’t had any chocolate for over two years now. Don’t worry ’bout me though, I make up for it with other sweets.
I do have this somewhat irrational fear stemming from the chocolate incident however. I worry that there might be chocolate in sweets I buy. This started with the headaches of course and culminated with a purchase at Harry and David, a store in our local mall. No, this is not a sponsored post, but, they do have some gooo-oood sweets!!
Anyhow, around christmas time, a friend and I decided to see what holiday goodies were in stock. While there, I noticed a lovely selection of malted milk balls. They had the traditional chocolate, for which I longed, in addition to some strawberry and raspberry ones.
I decided on the raspberry ones, made my purchase and sat on a mall bench to indulge myself while my friend finished up her selection and purchase. I bit into the raspberry goodness, savoring the surprisingly non-waxy coating, when a familiar taste entered my mouth. Hmmm, I thought, as I crunched. What is that? It’s so familiar…
At that moment the light bulb went on and I instinctively, and rather violently, spat the half chewed mess out into my hand, in front of an old man sitting by the fountain and a couple strolling by. Looks of disgust crossed their faces.
Ignoring them I fished the receipt out of the bag and wiped my hand off with it. Before I marched back in there asking for an exchange, I had to make sure I hadn’t misread the label.
Raspberry Maltballs, it said. Nope, no mention of chocolate there. The ingredient label of course listed cocoa, but I felt strongly that the front label should have indicated it.
I took my open package into the cashier who had just checked me out, told her I was allergic (it causes a bad physical reaction, so that’s allergic right?) to chocolate, which the raspberry maltball label did not say it contained, so could I please have the strawberry ones instead, assuming they did not have chocolate in them. She obliged with sincerest apologies and all was right in my world again. That is, until the banana cream pie blizzard I ordered from DQ in the same mall a week later, came with a few stray chocolate chips in it. This time it was a few dozen people that saw a spastic woman violently spit a mouth full of chocolate chip tainted ice cream onto the floor.
Maybe I should stick with homemade treats from here on out.
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