I love Dairy Milk

I am pretentious.  I want to like the sorts of comestibles that a Guardian-reading, university-educated, middle-class liberal twerp ought to like, so I convince myself to go out and buy them.  From fairtrade fusilli to organic aubergines to free-range vodka, I snap pricy products up readily.

When it comes to chocolate though, I've been fooling myself.  As pleasant-tasting as Lindt Fleur de Sel or Green & Black's Maya Gold* might be, the only chocolate bar I really, genuinely, honestly, love is this one:

Cadbury's Dairy Milk
I realize that, living in the home town of Rowntree's and Terry's, I shouldn't be supporting their Brummie rivals.  I don't care. 
I also don't care if our continental cousins regard it as non-chocolate.  Dairy Milk is simply delicious, and simply the best.  You can take your Swiss confections and your Belgian pralines and melt them down for cat food.  They aren't a patch on this stuff:


Now, Mr Cadbury's Parrot, where is that lifetime's supply of sugary cocoa goodness you promised me?


*Do be careful when Google Image searching for this name, though, as Maya Gold is also the pseudonym of a Hungarian porn star.

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