I can only second drew's comment futher down. An awful lot of sneering has crept in to this article. One simply cannot compare the two types of chocolate, as the would be like comparing a burger (which is essentially waste parts of a cow put to the grinder and poured into patties) with a full blown steak (where diffent cuts definitely taste different).

As for myself, even as a kid of 10 years I favoured dark chocolate to that messy milky stuff. Part of that probably has to do with the advertising(*): something has to be fishy when a company tries to make you believe that adding more of a surplus product (=milk) is supposed to be better than having more of the original stuff after which the end product is named.

(*at least ads here in Europe)

After all, folks, what we're essentially discussing here is CANDY...JUNK FOOD...SNACKING STUFF...OK? The problem with any kind of food/drink "snob" is that he/she gets so wrapped up in trivia, minutiae and arcana regarding where it came from,percentage of ingredients, etc., that oftentimes the FUN of eating FUN FOOD gets lost in the shuffle! Hey - when it's a matter of non-nutritive foodstuffs, if it TASTES good, it IS good! Whether it's a mundane Milky Way or a gourmet Godiva, each can be beautiful in its own way. And, by the way, I'll stick with regular M&Ms until someone can show me a gourmet-quality equivalent with equally glorious colors.

I don't know if anybody's looking at this one anymore, but I just had to mention Chocolove. The 60-something percent cocoa bar with the red wrapper (I think it's red, anyway) is my favorite. Oh, and the other brand with the bits of chili peppers. It makes me feel like Moctezuma (sp?).

Ever since my earliest memory, I've hated the vile, nasty-tasting stuff. My mother swears that the first time she spooned a bit of chocolate pudding into my mouth I spit it out all over her and started howling, sure that my own mother, whom I'd previously trusted unconditionally, was endeavoring to poison me for reasons unknown. She tried again when I was a toddler with identical results.

Every so often in my childhood, I would be presented with something chocolate with the suggestion "well. . .just take a tiny bite." I would taste the candy bar or the bit of devil's food cake or the chocolate cupcake and immediately seek a paper towel or a sink, because there was nothing in this world that could induce me to swallow such a hideous substance. I would look at my peers, eating poo-colored sweets and wonder, what is the attraction? Why are you willing to trade perfectly lovely carrot cake with cream cheese frosting for this evil, foul tasting concoction? Caramel sundaes are wonderful after a child's burger meal, why ruin the melodious blending of caramel and ice cream with. . .that nasty syrup!

I remember vividly, at a family dinner held when I was perhaps 7, my aunt brought out what she thought of as a heavenly chocolate mousse bombe. Every other member of the family salivated with joy and glee. I sat while this treat was being served until I was to be given a plate and then, with the long suffering patience of an Oliver Twist, used to being denied the joy given to other children, said quietly. "No. Thank you. I don't want any. I'm fine. Really." I watched as relatives young and old dug in with gusto and cast desperately about for something else. At birthday parties, there was still punch to sip. At restaurants, always an alternative. At home, at worst, I rather enjoyed whipped cream by itself or with a bit of jam while the rest of the family ate cake. I sat staring at my empty place for a bit and then finally, looked at my aunt with some desperation. "Is there anything else? A cough drop maybe."

My aunt went blubbering from the room, her triumph of cookery and pride done in by the plaintive cry of a polite 7-year-old who would very much, please ma'am, like something sweet too.

My mother decided then that I would never learn to like, much less tolerate chocolate. She made sure that the givers of birthday parties knew and at provided me with an alternative cupcake and that at family dinners there was at least something, even if it was leftover vanilla pudding or a package of gumdrops.

Today, as an adult, I am still completely and utterly mystified by the predilection of so many for such a hideous tasting substance. I have occasionally tasted my fingers when baking chocolate chip cookies or a rich, heavy red velvet cake for my husband. I taste, my mouth puckers and I force myself to swallow. Then I go look at the man I married, the one who will eat the cookies, the cake, the bars. We seem to be the same species; yet he adores this strange addictive substance that is anethema to me.

Was I born without the chocolate gene? Am I a mutant of some kind who should've been packed off to Xaviar's School for Gifted Children? Perhaps, in another era, I could've made my living in a sideshow a'la Carnivale ("She walks, she talks. Offer her chocolate and she vomits! The Amazing Who Despises Chocolate! Yes, even deep in the throes of PMS, she will reject all offers of Godiva! Come see this sad poor soul and be glad you are not similarly effected!")

Honestly, I don't feel the lack. And I look at all of the addicts, coveting their squares of overpriced oils and fats with a sense of superiority. Slaves to their desire. Afflicted with cravings. I may, occasionally, feel the outsider looking in, but I'm somehow glad I don't share the insider's passion.

...of why I'm really psyched I'm just not that into food.

it's true. i don't consider myself an elitest chocolate snob, but 'chocolate bars,' as they are referred to in Canada, are really 'candy bars.' the mere thought of them gives me a toothache. hershey's chocolate doesn't taste remotely like chocolate to me. rather, it tastes like [brown] wax. bring on the 70% +, PLEASE. This is one of the reasons i moved to Quebec: good chocolate, unpasteurized cheese, fleur de sel salt -- all at affordable prices. Now if only they'd lower the price of wine....