in the 70s, Food of the Seventies

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Commentor Name:	Peter in San Francisco
Comments left:	OK, so what WAS it about the Ideal bars? Are there any other theories out there? I wrestled with my weight as a kid in the late 70's, yet every once in a while my mom would secretly buy a box of these rich logs of dark chocolately goodness, if only to show her undying love for me, her only begotten son. There was a whole ritual to my after-school consumption of this sweetest of sins: We would take them out of the 'fridge (I thought that mom would hide them in there, but now I understand it was because of the low melting point of the chocolate). Then she'd say, "Now, Peter, you know that four is your limit." I would reach into the long, rectangular box; the bars would be cold to the touch, yet even at first contact my chubby hands would leave tell-tale fingerprints on the cookies I touched. Then, I'd eat the ends of each bar first. There was an extra little clot of chocolate on each side of the bar, sort of a remnant of a cooled puddle of chocolate, I figured, that resulted when chocolate was drizzled over the top of each chocolate. Anyway, these little growths were easy to bite off, and would lend a fairly pure chocolate experience, one that only hinted of the peanut butter explosion that loomed on the not-so-distant horizon. Stay tuned for Chapter Two: The First Bite.
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