Choco Leibniz

Unhinging the Press-and-Seal crinkles like a roll of fresh packing tape. I move to the kitchen because my roommate is trying to sleep for the bar exam in the bedroom next to mine. Suddenly, the packaging bursts open and I am overcome with the fragrance of graham cracker. It's actually butterier than graham crackers, but my nose never figures that out. I pour 2% chocolate milk into my cow coffee mug and walk back to my bedroom.

Admiring the matching "fork marks" on the cookie and chocolate it's hard to tell exactly what the proportions of chocolate to cookie will be. The words "coco leibniz" are etched in between dimples on the cookie. I take my first bite and am immediately amazed by the crunch of this sturdy bar. An initial sting of bitterness hits my tongue as the crisp chomps slowly melt into a rich wave of milk chocolate. I take a second bite and don't notice the bitterness, just the primordial dance of butterfats and cacao.

The bite mark reveals the cookie is 80% biscuit despite the balance of flavor with his oft overpowering brother, cacao. I take a drink to clear my palette and dunk the cookie. The biscuit is impenetrable by liquid and the crunching is only exacerbated by the suddenly cooled chocolate. Another sip of milk washes away the straggling shards of biscuit. With one sixth of the bar left, I take a big sip of milk and simultaneously crunch the bar as if Kellogg's had finally based a cereal off my input. The final bite was disappointing because I loved the bipolar change from bad cop crunch to the good cop salve of chocolate. Perhaps, this is why they are best eaten in pairs.