I bought some new hot chocolate. How was I to know it would change my life?
At first, I thought 'hey, this stuff looks good.' It seemed innocuous enough, in it's little brown tin, with simple green patterns. The ingredients: dark chocolate, sugar, salt, nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, and pepper. It was enough of a subtle twist that I was hooked.
Hooked. Huh. I used to use the word as a joke. Hooked on comics, hooked on zombie movies, hooked on crystal meth-- always light-hearted and comical.
I tried the hot chocolate and it was good. It was smooth, chocolaty, and most of all, it triggered a catastrophic addiction. Y'see, I thought it said to add 3 tsp of chocolate to my 6 oz. cup. I liked it, and felt warm surges of ecstasy under my skin. Then I reread the package to discover it actually read 3 tbsp per cup! Naturally, I wanted the full effect- nay, needed the full effect. And that's when it all started. It seduced my senses, left me a gibbering puddle of flesh in my chair. (My co-workers were remarkably understanding, and didn't feel compelled to help in any way whatsoever.)
That was when I decided to leave my wife and run away with my hot chocolate. I know, deep down, that eventually my chocolate will run out on me. Sure, I'll try to find it again, but it's a weird foreign brand and I'm not sure I'll be able to. I'll eventually try the next fancy hot chocolate to come along, then the next, then the next, in an ever-worsening spiral of chocolaty self-destruction.
Next thing you know, I'll be snorting raw cocoa-- freebasing Ecuador 80% Dark. My family will try to hold an intervention, and my wife, tearful, will ask me to leave chocolate and come back home.
At first, I'll try, thinking maybe, just maybe I can do it, but fearing deep down that one day, the Cocoa Dragon will have me again. Sure, my confidence will be boosted the first time I pass by Laura Secord or Godiva stores, and I'll think 'you know what? I can do this.' But then the first time it gets too hard, I'll be back on the street, probably on Hallowe'en. The cravings will have gotten too bad, and I'd be looking for the biggest fix of all, only to be lost in a sea of milk chocolate and dark cocoa.
Seriously, though, if you can find Chuao Chocolatiers' Winter Hot Chocolate? I heartily recommend it. And I'll reserve a place for you in choco-rehab.