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B Is for Belgian Chocolates
January 21, 2008I’m charging you storage fee, Mimi pronounced. One bar per person; these chocolates sat in our fridge for the longest time.
Had I known what we were bargaining over, I would have haggled instead of nodding guiltily.
Meet my box of Belgian chocolates, sent all the way from London by the funny, lovely Chelo.
The box comes with the cutest silver card.
Scribbled on the card is a heartwarming little note.
Oh, and did I say the box is very pretty? It is.
This is what greets you when you lift the lid.
Who knew chocolate could be so delicious?
I was awed by the detail on each piece. Each bar tastes and appears different. They looked so vibrant and exquisitely beautiful I almost felt sad eating them.
I almost forgot. The chocolates come with a manual of sorts. So, not only do you know each scrumptious piece by name, you learn of their pedigree as well. This is the manual and the little glutton who happily shared the box with me.
I cannot remember the last time a meal inspired me to philosophize. Each bite reminded me of the last book I read, Neil Gaiman’s M is for Magic. To quote Gaiman loosely: You know what the Sunbird of Suntown tastes like? It tastes like heaven. It tastes like the sun, like my youth. It tastes like forever.
I suggest you get both the box and the book.
Thank you, thank you Adrian and Chelo!
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