I finished Candyfreak: A Journey Through the Chocolate Underbelly of America by Steve Almond on the train this afternoon after a few episodes of stifled giggling in the corner so as not to look completely crazy. Any author that can let go of all inhibitions to the young readers of America and live his or her obsession(s) in plain view and including hoarding, kleptomania, potsmoking, and fondling deserves high praise in my book. I was fascinated by all the sweets that I'd never heard of before--as well as the ones I had--and the fabulous visits to all the candy plants with all the odd machinery and candymaker stories and ingredients oozing and gooing and enrobing all over the place. The only problem I had with this book was that everytime I picked it up and started craving nougat and fried peanuts and caramel and shops lined with bars and bars of all these candies that you can't really just find anywhere. I guess that's more of a personal problem, isn't it? Well, thank goodness for the internet. I just may able to track down some Goo Goo Clusters, Abba Zabbas, Twin Bings and Idaho Spuds yet. Highlights: uninhibited writing leading to public giggling, trips to the factories, pink prison, and a handful of words I've got to remember to look up.