BEDA #14: A Private Letter to White Chocolate

Dear White Chocolate,

I would like to thank you for a won­der­ful Easter 2009. It was plea­sure to receive you. Despite many peo­ple say­ing to me ‘White choco­late is not real choco­late’ I am never more thrilled than when I put your pasty, pale self in my mouth.

I know there are some dis­be­liev­ers out there who say that you only exist because the Swiss needed some­thing to do with the left over cocoa but­ter they had from mak­ing milk choco­late. But to those peo­ple I point out that Aus­tralian rules foot­ball was only dis­cov­ered when crick­eters made up a ball game to pass the win­ter months with. Or pos­si­bly they stole the game from the indige­nous peo­ple who had been play­ing it for cen­turies before that. But the point here is that brown choco­late is like cricket — digestible, cer­tainly pleas­ant, but a bit bor­ing. Whereas white choco­late is like AFL — racy, spec­tac­u­lar and an obses­sion for those obsessed.

In sum­mary, white choco­late I pledge to reject any lover whom ever gives me brown choco­late, legally divorce from any grand­par­ent who tries the same and/or cam­paign against any gov­ern­ment that doesn’t give me $900 to buy white choco­late. Rudd, con­sider your­self lucky.

Yours in lov­ing regard,

Andrew

PS. White power!