Inner conflict, vol. 1

Point: I will not miss the stuff that passes for pizza in the UK. The crust is often the correct combo of chewy crispness, but the sauce they use is miserable. It's like they open a can of chopped tomatoes or tomato sauce and use it with no seasoning, not even salt and pepper. I like me a zesty, herby kick. It ruins the whole thing for me. It is also traditional to eat the pizza with a knife and fork. No slices. Everyone orders their own 9" pizza, and you cut it like a steak. At the very least, I like to eat a triangular slice with my hands. Even better if it's tiny little squares, allowing one to hoover vast quantities of pizza without the guilt of knowing how much you've eaten. (That is obviously a deep-rooted value established through constant exposure to Mabe's as a child.) Nope. Pizza in the UK is just so so. And I'm moving to CHICAGO, where they have a whole style of pizza named after them. Rock on.

Counterpoint: I will miss the chocolates. Even cheap chocolate is good here. Don't get me wrong. I know there are exceptional chocolates available in the US. Certainly there is merit in a dark chocolate bar spiced with bits of cayenne made by a small local chocalatier. But sometimes you want mass produced deliciousness in quantity, and Cadbury makes Russell Stover and Whitman's look like by-products from a child's plastic kitchen set.