Will nobody think of the children?

Biagio Chocolate should not have its own storefront. It should, by rights, be stuck behind a grubby curtain in an otherwise family-friendly candy store. The curtain should have a laminated cardstock sign safety-pinned to its folds: "Adults Only Beyond This Point." Those interested in what is on offer beyond the curtain should have to sidle in furtively, looks of mingled desire and guilt on their faces, and slink away with their purchases tucked into bags or pockets. But the world has gone to the dogs, vice holds sway on every corner, and Biagio is out there in front of God and everybody, flaunting their iridescent Christopher Elbow truffles and their Vosges flying pigs and their piles of neatly wrapped bars of chocolate so dark that it approaches the event horizon. So what if you have to descend a rickety set of iron stairs and feint toward the vintage clothing shop to get there; people can still see. Children will still ask questions. They might even want to try what Biagio sells. Oh, it's enough to give a person the swoons just thinking about it.

Ordinarily I'm not the sort of person who lunges for anything theobromic, but once the salespeople started listing all the different chocolate-chili mixes on the shelves, I had to bolt before I signed over my entire paycheck. My wallet sustained minor flesh wounds, but now I have a bar of Coppeneur 72% dark with whiskey and ancho peppers (store rule: if you moan, you must own) and a No. 2 Christopher Elbow chocolate with spice and chilis. Elbow's ingredients list is carefully vague on which spice he uses, but ever since I had a piece my eyes have been Cherenkov blue and I've been just itching to fold space.