Lets take a moment to consider the Reese’s.
Firstly, I’ve heard there is no wrong way to eat a Reese’s. So, that’s a relief because I know the high levels of concern surrounding proper candy eating decorum. Do I nibble? Break off bits with my fingers? I find the Kit-Kat an exceptionally hard nut to crack because of the intense social pressures surrounding giving pieces away. Not such worries with the Reese’s. As long as you’re eating, you’re following the accepted social code. Whew.
Secondly, I’ve always been an admirer of the Reese’s peanut butter filling. There’s a crumbly, solid quality that doesn’t quite resemble genuine peanut butter, which I find intensely satisfying. Although, it does quietly echo the characteristics of natural peanut butter when the peanut oil has been separated from the solids, and yet something tells me that there just might be something hydrogenated about it. It is to be sure that the Reese’s mystique has transgressed far beyond George Washington Carver’s wildest imaginings that even he may not have recognized its origins of the peanut.
Thirdly, let’s talk about “brand extension.” This when you take one product and breed it. It then explodes into a zillion little baby products, which create a nice little army that can dominate grocery store shelves with monotonous, consumerist bliss. Reese’s is a brand extension mastermind. Its soldiers march together in bright orange packaging, striking upon civilians, waiting for women and children to buy more of what they’ve already purchased. Each of these themed variations contain that peanut butter mystery filling, each use a variant of chocolaty coating, and as long as there is incessant consumption, we should be delighted and our worried abated that…there is no wrong way to eat a Reese’s.