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The bars of white chocolate lingered, slowly being picked at by those foolish enough to be pulled in by their sickeningly sweet siren song.  White chocolate coats the mouth and punches the pancreas but does little else.  So I asked if anyone would mind that I took the remaining bars home with me to reforge them into something more compelling like a proper fudge or maybe, just maybe… chocolate.  The four wrapped bars sat silently awaiting their reincarnation as I mixed water, corn syrup, and sugar into a pot and started melting dark chocolate.  The bars were chopped and added to the dark and baking chocolate to be reincarnated as the cocoa half of a chocolate fudge and I smiled as the last remnants of identity “MAUI 2010, GREAT JOB” slipped from their faces.  “I will make you better” I said as I mixed the two parts together at around 110ËšF and let them sit.

This morning, I was greeted with… incredibly crappy fudge.  Somehow, their white chocolate in under 8 ounces destroyed the quality of the other four pounds I had prepared, turning it to a gloopy pile.  I had to re-melt and forge the fudge anew again to get it to a reasonable consistency.  On Monday, I will bring it into work and be met as a savior.

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I don’t want to quite say I hate my work’s sales teams, but when R&D launches a multimillion dollar product, we get a nice lunch, when a sales team beats their sales goal, they’re flown to an exotic local and any paraphernalia of such trips serves as a building-wide emetic.  Apparently, in 2010 some arbitrary goal was met so bars of white chocolate were minted to celebrate a trip to Maui and they were made in such quantity that there were enough that the proles could have some.  It’s a nice idea, except for it’s white chocolate, which technically isn’t chocolate, and I spent much of the day reminding people.

Coworker: Terry, did you catch the chocolate outside the office row?
Me: No, there’s no chocolate there.
Coworker: It’s white chocolate.
Me: Which isn’t chocolate.  It cocoa butter, sugar, and cream.
Coworker: That’s basically chocolate.
Me: Nope, no cocoa solids, not chocolate.  That’s like dropping an olive into a bottle of vermouth and saying “it’s basically a martini”.
Coworker: That’d be a crime.
Me: You know what else is a crime?
Coworker: Murder?
Me: That too… and calling white chocolate chocolate.
Coworker: The world must be told.

I’m on it, buddy.