It seemed like the perfect combination: sweet, juicy sushi rice, all fluffy and white, coated in a crisp, black layer of bitter chocolate. Surely the Malteasers of the future. A moment of inspiration.
Yet I took it too far.
I should have started with the basics. But I thought I was on a roll. I thought one flash of inspiration could be topped by another, then another.
So I gave in to my urge to cook the rice in whisky.
Then I just had to use chocolate with 100% cocoa content and create my own concoction using butter and sugar.
The butter burned. The sugar didn't dissolve. The chocolate was horrible - just horrible. The whisky-rice nearly caught fire and exploded.
Still I pressed on. I shaped the nasty, sickly rice into absurd pseudo-balls, fooling myself into thinking I'd be able to refridgerate them, roll them a little, then coat them in the chocolate and everything would come out OK.
Hours later, I had created a scene that looked like the aftermath of a golf-ball race riot. So much carnage. So little that was even remotely palatable.
Didn't stop me eating most of the little buggers though.