The purple one tastes like unicorn steak.
The Wonka candy pretty much fell off the face of the earth--or at least I assume; more likely I just moved on to Yuengling and bacon cheeseburgers instead of novelty chocolates. Recently--as in maybe two years ago--I began to see actual real-life non-Johnny Depp and/or Gene Wilder approved Wonka Bars in gas stations and small town grocery stores that still sell kerosene in jugs. They are, in fact, quite awesome, even though they are bascially just chocolate bars with graham cracker bits in them. Still, survey says: yum!
So my wife bought the candy bars and brought them home for me to devour. They are branded as "Wonka Exceptionals," which I presume means that they are of higher quality or at least different quality. It comes in three flavors: Scrumdiddlyumptious Chocolate Bar, the Chocolate Waterfall Bar, and the Domed Dark Chocolate Bar.
These are huge bars, anagolous to the "king" sized bars that a certain other candy company makes.
Suck it, Wonka! Stay away or I'll call Chris Hansen on you.
To show you the true scale of the size of the chocolate that I'm talking about, here, my dog Dexter is more than happy to help.
The onwy thing biggow than these candy baws is my heart.
To truly get a taste for these confections, we decided to have a blind taste test, in which I would guess which of the three I was eating while wearing a blindfold. My wife eagerly wrapped a cloth around my head with an enthusiasm and speed I find endearingly alarming.
The safe word is "insulin."
So here are the three bars up for contention:
Here we have it: The Scrumdiddlyumptious Bar, The Chocolate Waterfall, and the Domed Dark Chocolate Bar.
My wife gave me the first piece. It tasted good, but with a bit of an iffy aftertaste; it had to be the Waterfall. The Waterfall is a mixture of milk and white chocolate. I am not a fan of white chocolate, equating it somewhere on the tasty meter between cadaver meat and orange-flavored ammonia.
Surprisingly, though, this wasn't a bad choice. The mixture is just about right. While I'm not sure I'd go out of my way to have some, people who are not fans of white chocolate shouldn't necessarily shy away. The texture was actually better than straight up milk chocolate, and the taste is there but not overly strong. At the very least, it was the prettiest candy bar of the bunch:
Welcome to Xanadu. I am your host, Ricardo Montalbon, and this is your concierge, Joan Jett of the Blackhearts.
The next piece was fed to me. It was crunchy, so had to be the Scrumdiddlyumptious Bar. You just can't quite go wrong with toffee, cookie crumbs, and peanut bits. Unfortunately for my wife, I found a bag of these cleverly hidden from my view a few days earlier and had sampled them once or twice or a dozen times. It doesn't matter. I'm sure this violates some aspect of the blind taste test, but the benefits (tasty chocolate) outweighed the drawbacks (pissing off my wife).
The W stands for Wonderful! Or Wax. Don't tell the FDA.
The last one, quite by default, was the Domed Dark Chocolate Bar. This one was surprisingly good since I don't care for dark chocolate.
This piece of candy says "Eat Me." Oh, wait, that's a different story involving creepy eccentrics who were probably pedophiles.
I'm not sure I could eat the large bar of just this, but fans of dark chocolate would appreciate the balance of dark and milk chocolate, I think.
Quite surprisingly, I got all three correct! I believe this is the academic equivalent of an 800 on my verbal SATs.
Three for three, bitches! Take that, Marilyn vos Savant.
All three of these bars were pretty good, but the Scrumdiddlyumptious Bar is probably the only one I would buy on a regular basis. The other two certainly aren't bad--they were both pretty good, and I've actually dipped back into the Domed Dark Bar when my wife wasn't looking--but I can't see them crop up on my menu more than occasionally. And I don't think any of the three are as good as the simple graham-cracked-laced Wonka Bar.
A score of Oompa Loompas died so I could write this review. Remember them not in vain.
Each candy bar also came with a chance to win a Golden Ticket. You don't get to go to the whimsical chocolate factory, alas, where you get to eat experimental candy and meet with the non-union labor. You do, however, get a trip around the world. Unfortunately, we didn't win any Golden Tickets. I, however, did win a bout of indigestion.
This is what you get when you eat three 12-year-old's worth of chocolate in one sitting.
So there you have it. It's hard to go wrong with quality chocolate, and Nestle done good.