It's amazing, you can live with someone for years, you think you know everything there is to know about them and then, boom, like a bolt out of the blue you discover they've had a favourite lunch snack all their life and you had no idea. This happened recently when adam came home from work one day banging on and on about a run in with a crazy Kit Kat. I can't possibly do the story that followed justice so I'll let him explain what happened...
I love Kit Kats and I have one as an after lunch snack pretty much everyday. This is in neat harmony with the history of the bar which, according to Wikipedia, "...was developed after a worker at the Rowntree's factory in York put a suggestion in the suggestion box for a snack that a 'man could have in his lunch box for work'." The real coincidence is that Kit Kats take their name from an 18th century literary club, the Kit-Cat Club, named after Christopher Catling the keeper of the pie-house in Shire Lane, by Temple Bar, where the club originally met. Where I buy my Kit Kats is freakishly close to being in that exact location. However, even knowing these facts couldn't have prepared me for what I experienced when I bit into a Kit Kat a couple of weeks ago on an otherwise normal day. Expecting the usual crunch of chocolate covered wafer, I was stunned when I realised that in my mouth, and in my hand, was a bar of solid chocolate.
With a telephone right in front of me, and vague tales of boxes of product being delivered as compensation floating around my head, there was only one thing to do. I called Nestle to complain. If I'd wanted a plain chocolate bar I would have bought one after all, and not one made of Kit Kat chocolate. The man I spoke with was very affable and he explained to me that I probably had no idea of the scale of the production of Kit Kats. Being that they are the UK's number one chocolate bar and number one biscuit, he was probably right. I confess, I'd never put much thought to it. Apparently, giant sheets of wafer drop into a mould which is then filled with liquid chocolate. Occasionally the wafer doesn't land exactly in the correct spot and some areas of the mould gets filled entirely with chocolate, which must be what happened to mine. It is the job of workers at the factory to spot this and make sure any mutant Kit Kats get destroyed. After quizzing me for some numbers on the wrapper, he said he'd send me a cheque. A few days later I was bemused when a cheque arrived in the post, for £3!
£3 is not quite as good as a big box of Kit Kats but, hell, it's better than a kick in the teeth.
If you have time, check out the Kit Kat Palace to find out all the crazy Kit Kat flavours they have in Japan. Anyone for Green Tea Kit Kats?