World's Finest

"Mommy, is this really the world's finest chocolate?"

Ainsley asked me this, looking at the 5 candy bars Jason bought from the neighborhood kids who had just knocked on the door asking for our monetary help with their school fundraiser. I hadn't eaten one yet, but based on past experiences with these long, narrow, chunky candy bars I remember my dad buying from local kids standing outside of grocery stores when I was Ainsley's age, I felt I could answer her this way: Maybe not the finest in the whole wide world, but better than most you can find around here.

Ainsley and her dad shared one of the caramel ones last night, and Ainsley raved about it. This morning, at my 10am chocolate break, I unwrapped one of the almond ones, which as a kid could send me into an hour of euphoric bliss. I bit in, and...

Huh. Not as good as I remember.

I hate it when you get all revved up for something, especially something that you remember absolutely adoring in childhood, and then you realize it's just not all that. Disappointment is my least favorite emotion.

I sat at my desk enjoying the only quiet moment the library has had since school started to ponder why the World's Finest chocolate almond bar just wasn't doing it for me. Was it because my tastes are more adult now? Maybe. I lean toward dark chocolate now, and World's Finest is much milkier and sweeter than my usual stuff. But at second taste, the chocolate is quite good and smooth, even though it's very milky. So what is it?

And then I see.

Remember when candy bars that had almonds in them had whole almonds? And part of the joy would be seeing those big lumps on the underside of the bar and getting one of the pieces that had a big ol' almond in there that would really crunch? I've noticed in recent years that Hershey's chops up their almonds in their bars, and even the last Mars I had seemed missing something in the whole nut department.

Et tu, World's Finest?

I feel a little, well, nuts being so let down by a lack of big almonds in a candy bar we bought for $1 to help a local school. But when companies cut corners by short-changing me in the almond department, it just ticks me off. If I buy a candy car with nuts in it, I want to have to worry about both getting cavities and potentially breaking a crown chomping on a hidden whole almond.

What pleasure food from your childhood disappoints now that you're an adult? Is it because you've changed, or because the product has changed?