How the hell do you mangle your hands in the making of chocolate? Especially if you go by the easy/trope-y route of just melting it into a mould. Do you keep the bar in your fucking hand while cutting it? Besides, how the hell do you expect the taste to magically change with the shape. You use a chocolate with a certain taste, you get chocolate with that taste. Sometimes I wonder if the authors are so busy in trying to fall into all these same tropes, that they forget what thinking is. ffs.
Yet here I am still reading it and getting soul diabetes from the sweetness. Heart cares little about retardation, it seems.