Audiences loved the romanticized fantasy version of Paris to be found in the movie Amelie. It was saturated with color, filled with quirky personality and a timelessness that made it seem charmingly old-fashioned and modern all at once. If Amelie was a candy shop, it would be Miette Confiserie.
Imagine a shop with large apothecary jars filled with old time candies you might remember from your childhood like cinnamon red hots, sanded lemon drops, and Swedish fish. Added to the bulk candies are those little tins of foil-wrapped chocolate sardines, chocolate bars, lollipops, even packages of pop rocks.
Looking for something more deluxe? There are handmade caramels, a good selection of foil-wrapped chocolates and chocolate bars and imported marzipan in addition to packages of freshly made cookies from the Miette bakery. There is also a lot of licorice if that's your vice.
My husband Mike points out that the room goes silent as I watch a quivering gooey strand of icing bridge a hunk of pastry being pried apart by delicate hands in an Entenman's commercial. And when a pool of thick, rich Dove chocolate swirls around and folds itself magically over a brick of vanilla ice cream, my eyes glaze over. Then, when the caramel and chocolate of a Milky Way is fully exposed in delectable close up, my jaw goes slack. He tells me to face it: these commercials are, for me, like watching porn. Yes, I embarrassedly admit that I have fallen prey to the sexualized enticements of sugary things. 
I love chocolate. I have always loved chocolate. I have lived my life
by the principle, So much chocolate, so little time. The expansiveness of my love of chocolate is such that it would be impossible for me to name a favorite – it would be like asking me to pick a favorite among my children. (Or maybe not exactly like that; after all, I only have one child).
Here are three little words that might give the staunchest snacker pause: Chocolate-covered bacon.
Candy has been a bond between me and my pal Joy since we first became
best friends in sixth grade at Beverly Vista Elementary School in
Beverly Hills, California. Sure, there’s been humor, loyalty, shared
heart-throbs, and tears…but from the get-go, there were shared Nestle
Crunch candy bars filled with crinkly chocolate that we bought every
day as we walked home from school together. It became a ritual,
peeling off the blue and white wrapper, then the foil, and eating the
crunchy bar while hysterically laughing over some inside joke that was
funny only to ourselves. But it was better that way.
