Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Before she departed to learn a ninth language, the language of law, Carmen Sandiego left a generous gift. A single bar of Cadbury’s Flake would’ve more than sufficed, but in Bahrain these treats apparently congregate by the bagful.

I don’t know about you, gentle reader, but I’ve never heard of Cadbury’s Flake. Now, I’ve heard of the Cadbury Bunny, and whenever Easter comes around I demand to see the genetic monstrosity in all its clucking glory. There’s just something about the chicken/cash cow/rabbit that compels me to run out and buy my annual Cadbury’s Crème Egg. Each year I dash to the nearest drugstore, and each year I find disappointment as soon as I bite into the egg. The faux yolk is simply too intense for me, so much so that I need to snort a few Pixie Stix to counterbalance its effects.

But that’s neither here nor there, as you probably guessed, because I want to focus on the Flake. I considered keeping the bag sealed for sentimentality’s sake, at least for a week or so, but in less than an hour that resolve melted like fudge under a hot sun. I gingerly opened the bag, extracted a Flake, and proceeded to dirty my shirtfront with fine chocolate. The Cadbury people proclaim it’s the “flakiest, crumbliest chocolate around,” and the chocolate indeed functioned as advertised. The combination of exotic texture and old timey taste hit the spot perfectly, so now I’m left with a burning question: can Flake combine with other foodstuffs to produce a new taste sensation? I think it’s time to set sail for some high seas adventures in cooking.