A few weeks ago, friends handed me a piece of candy, instructing me to eat it, but declining to tell me what to expect or anything about it.
Having a peanut allergy has fomented a deep suspicion of unfamiliar candy. Who knows lurks underneath that sugar? What evils have been hidden amongst the sweet? Even when assured of its safety, I was distrustful.
After all, if someone tells you to "try something" without further elaboration, you can be sure it's not because it's delicious. If it was tasty, they would have said so. No, people who just tell you to taste something - while refusing to say why - are looking for a reaction. Usually an adverse one.
I didn't have an allergic reaction. But it was indeed an adverse one. To a milk chocolate bar with Pop Rocks.
Yes, Pop Rocks. Volatile, loud, slightly painful, Pop Rocks. In milk chocolate. Smooth, mild, sweet milk chocolate.
It's not really a happy combination.
So of course I happily accepted a whole bar of the Israeli-made candy for Foodgoat to try.
However, not wanting to spring a mouthful of weirdness on his taste buds, I told him what it was first. Now knowing that there was weirdness ahead, he postponed the tasting repeatedly, waiting for the "right time" (much like our marriage).
And when you think about it, there's really no right setting or atmosphere for eating something freakish like that - there's no meal where you think, "Hey, you know what would go great with this wine? A chocolate bar with Pop Rocks."
When he finally did try it, the result was this:
While another person's reaction to the Pop Rocks chocolate bar was to clutch at her throat and scream "IT'S BURSTING INSIDE MY BRAIN!!!"
Which all just goes to show you that the weird, uncomfortable feelings that Pop Rocks give you are not eased when encased in creamy milk chocolate. In fact, it kind of makes it worse.
Maybe that's why the kiddies like it. Maybe its unpleasantness is what makes it appealing. Like artificially green ketchup. Can't say I'm one of them, though.