Each time a eat a Lindor truffle the same floodgate of memories opens wide. It was probably 19 years ago, the summer after my high school graduation, that my family (meaning my parents and the younger three kids) went on a two week, six country, whirlwind trip to Europe. We had a lot of fun, and definitely expanded our horizons--but I remember eating a lot of spaghetti (no matter what country we were in) because it was familiar. But what the chocolates always bring to mind is when we were in a train station waiting for our next sleeper car and my dad disappeared and resurfaced again with a bag full of pretty, shiny, red balls wrapped in cellophane. The first one I popped in my mouth was like heaven. I loved the silky chocolate center. They were rich and satisfying. My dad rationed them, so we only got one every once in a while, but that didn't matter because I knew he had more. They were the perfect companion to travel the rails with.
I didn't see them in the states for many years after that, and now they have become kind of ordinary. But for me, they will always represent train rides through beautiful countrysides, and time spent with my family. Ahhhh. I think I will go have another.