As a younger man, I had a passionate love affair. She was a sweet foreign girl that I only got to see on holidays. Perhaps being unable to see her bred a stronger sense of attraction, and I took every opportunity I got to see her. “She” is Toblerone chocolate.
And maybe it follows the metaphor that I should not have revisited old memories. I used to always buy Toblerone on the return flights in European airports on family holidays till around year 9. I hadn’t had any encounters until recently, when I chanced upon a spare bar, having mistakenly bought it for a friend who cannot eat it. Yes, a true curse.
So, stuck with a large bar of the stuff, I decided to treat myself, in true parks and rec style. I am now glad I avoided burdening my buddy with it. I must say the composition is delectable: a strong, rich base of chocolate is speckled with nutty crunch. Very sweet and superbly satisfying.
However, there is someone in the Toblerone design team who is clearly not a chocolate eater. While the shape feeds the aesthetic nicely, the triangular pieces are very difficult to eat. How do you go about tackling a pointy lump of reinforced chocolate-almond composite, built on a honey matrix?
My approach so far has been to rely on brute jaw strength, but I think my orthodontist more than my dentist would oppose to me getting more of the Swiss treat. I welcome suggestions on how I may improve this, but will endure for now. I would say that the mountain seems an appropriate image to advertise with, for every triangle seems to be another little Matterhorn to me, only harder.
What Grey Squirrels Are Thinking 