Pretzel M&Ms.

Since the end of November, a ‘Party Size’ (i.e. gigantic) bag of M&M Pretzel Candies has been calling to us from the top of the fridge. Every now and then I’ve been taking it down to sniff at the edges, eyes rolling back into my head. It was a pleasing, calorie-free relationship, that seemed to be working quite well. Until last weekend that is, when the Man suggested that the presence of a salty chocolate smell might be down to a hole in the bag.

Party size. Just right for a party of two.

All of a sudden, it was time to take things to another level. After all, is there anything worse than saving something for ages, only to discover it’s past its best? I don’t think so, my friends. Oh no.

And so, after months of postponement, we cracked the bag open and started to munch. Holy balls. The texture alone was addictive enough: large chunks of salty pretzel, enrobed in firm milk chocolate, all covered in a crispy sugar shell. It was hard to stop, I tell you.

Except, this is our one and only bag. For some strange reason, utterly beyond my comprehension, the only M&M combos we have in this country are plain or peanut.

Plain. Or peanut.

Not the most exciting of choices.

Even the fabled M&M’s World in Leicester Square only does the two flavours. Four floors, 35,000 square feet, and ONLY TWO FLAVOURS. And in case you’re wondering: yes, I have been there myself – and no, it is emphatically not worth a visit (unless you are a huge fan of moulded plastic, and consider different coloured plain-filled M&Ms the most exciting prospect known to man). 

Now, our Party Size bag (that of the Pretzel variety) came straight from the States: the land of a million flavours. Out there, you can get all sorts in your M&Ms: coconut, peanut butter, dark chocolate, mint crisp – and plenty more besides. But why should the our star-spangled cousins have all the fun? Why not share the love?

The door to the Promised Land. Alas, the way is shut.

I don’t just mean M&Ms either, folks: let’s get some new Ben and Jerry’s while we’re at it. I’m fed up of Phish Food and Cookie Dough. In San Francisco I saw with my very own eyes a fridge full of Cinnamon Buns flavour, Cake Batter, Peach Cobbler… varieties more wondrous than I’d ever even dared to imagine.

Sadly for me, however, unlike Pretzel M&Ms, ice cream doesn’t travel very well (not on a 9-hour flight, at least). So no special ice cream for me.

For goodness sake. If those flavours were only in English shops, I would BUY them. By the BUCKETLOAD.

Ben, Jerry, Messers M and M: you’re missing a trick. I and the Man alone could make the export of your goods well worth it. Nearly all of our disposable income goes on food (especially that of the pudding variety). And I’m sure we’re not the only ones.

For the moment though, we’ve just got the one bag to see us through. One giant and delicious bag which will probably last us… all of a couple of days.

It’s a First World problem, I know. But it’s not right, goddamnit. Us Brits are people too.

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