(CAUTION: Maltesers are NOT malted milk balls. They are Maltesers plain and simple. The one bears NO RESEMBLENCE to the other. Whatsoever. At all. EVER. Ask any Brit.)
Malteser: a cross-section.
Here are herds of delicious Maltesers arriving at the factory to be put into their Family Pack Gift Trays.
Here is an individual malteser package (empty, needless to say). Multiply this by about 15 and you'd probably have the Family Size Maltesers Gift Tray I have been known to gobble up in one sitting:
The recipe is a big secret. And people in England have all kinds of intricate theories about how a malteser is made. For instance, here's a few of them from The Guardian, London.
If you don't want to be addicted to them, DO NOT TRY THEM. Or, if you can't help yourself, there may be nothing for it but to do what I did: flee the country. Just leave the Land of Crunchies (more about them later) and Maltesers and go some place else entirely, some place far, far away where they've never heard of a malteser before and don't know what on earth you're talking about and think you must just mean malted milk balls (which of course you don't--or shouldn't).
This concludes part 2 of our Chocolate Series. In part 3 we will explore the Land of Crunchies. But before we go... a word to the wise.
Do NOT let Malted Milk Balls fool you. They are not as nice as they may appear--and certainly not nearly as nice as they ought to be. Do not let yourself be deceived by them for one instant. Do not let yourself be hoodwinked, bamboozled, duped, swindled, double-crossed, or led up the garden path by them, the naughty interlopers. Why settle for second best? When you could have The Real Thing--an actual, real life, true malteser? No. It's really all quite simple.