Thank (Cadbury) Crunchie it's Friday!

I'd like to introduce you to my new friend. His name is "Crunchie" and he has a chocolate outside with a golden honeycomb center. He can be found in aisle 13 at the Sainsbury's Supermarket in King's Langley, just a short drive from here. When I first heard of the Crunchie, I was told it was going to be one of the best candy bars I'd ever eaten. Ever eaten? I was skeptical, considering I was a connoisseur of fatty, chocolatey goodness, so I immediately had flashbacks of pre-teen years, grasping melty Butterfingers or Kit-Kats on hot Kansas summer days. Or, Hershey bars and Snicker's spread out along a floor after a chilly night of trick-or-treating, roaming house to house as a sugar-crazed 10 year old ghost. Surely this Crunchie couldn't quite encompass all the happiness that comes wrapped in a candy bar. It must just be some British fraud dressed as a candy bar, but actually containing calves liver and blood pudding with some hokey accent proclaiming "Aye-ya!" as it walks into a room and "Cheers!" as it leaves. But with one, slow, no-pun-intended 'crunchy' bite, I embraced the British candy bar and began to reminisce of a first week of pub work; George, a local, buying me a vodka and coke after my first order screw-up, William, the 17 year old dishwasher forcing me to eat my first mincemeat pie without actually telling me there's no meat in it, and Thomas the cat sleeping on my bed nearly every night, keeping my feet warm during the cold English nights. Although it gets stuck in teeth and adds 7 grams of fat to my belly, the Crunchie bar is in fact, one of the best candy bars I've ever eaten. The jury is still out on the mincemeat pie, however.

xo's from London,
jill