227 grams of Madagascar’s finest arrived on the doorstep today. That’s it there in the packet to the left. The little packet to the right is apparently a sample of not-quite the finest. The finest was grown with the tears of Madagascan infants. The lesser grade must’ve been watered by the tears of toddlers or something. Either way, it tastes good because of the pain and fear felt by impoverished Madagascan vanilla farmers.