Viral consumer trend pieces are of little interest to Racket. That's the giddy province of TikTok and TV news.
Sensing a giant-bunny-sized but coming?
But!
When we learned that Costco's 10-pound chocolate Easter bunny, which indeed is going viral all across the web, was manufactured by the Plymouth, Minnesota-based Maud Borup candy company? And that you're advised to smash Pete the Bunny (canonical name) open with a "mallet, hammer, or rolling pin"? And that the St. Louis Park Costco five blocks from our podcast studio had a hulking display of 'em in stock?
Well, that's a literal and figurative local angle too big to ignore.
Here's what it's like to report on, purchase, violently crack open, and digest the towering, Minnesota-made chocolate bunny from Costco.
Creating the Bunny
Costco was familiar with Maud Borup, which makes sense considering the local confection manufacturer has existed since 1907. (Current owner Christine Lantinen purchased the brand and recipes in 2005.)
Reps from Costco approached Maud Borup with the rough concept—colossal chocolate Easter bunny)—and the Plymouth company was confident its "tremendous production facility" could handle the logistical realities of forging a structurally sound product that'd be shipped on time to 30+ states, spokesperson Karen Edwards says.
"Costco's vision was to deliver a large, head-turning, show-stopping, chocolate bunny this season," she adds. "It's more than just a candy for us—it's about making special memories."
Canada's Rochef Chocolatier has gone viral in past years for its 4.4-pound Costco bunny, but Pete the Bunny shatters the scale at 10 pounds of semi-solid, fair trade-certified milk chocolate—that's 22,650 calories per $147.99 unit. Adding to the intrigue: The on-box instructions say to wrap Pete in a towel before bashing him with a blunt object. Viral payoff, via social media and legacy press, has abounded.
"It has just captivated everyone," Edwards says. "I'd venture to say it's our most viral creation."
Acquiring the Bunny
Having just interviewed local comedy legend Fancy Ray inside Racket's podcast studio, I journeyed a half-mile to the St. Louis Park Costco—no small feat, considering its notorious parking lot. Parking turned out to be a breeze, and it didn't take me long to encounter the stacked display of Pete the Bunnys.
Some degree of sticker shock is to be expected when you cradle the 2-foot-tall rabbit, infant-like, to your cart. At 92 cents per ounce amid the ongoing cocoa crisis, however, Pete's yield is something of a bulk steal.
No fewer than three (OK, exactly three) Costco workers engaged me on the way out with variations of, "Oh my god, you got the bunny?!"
Rather than lie in service of expediency ("It's for a party," I could have blurted), I explained to each of them that I worked for an independent media company, whose credit card was footing the bill, and that'd we'd be dismantling, eating, and reviewing the candy creature for our website. Ya know, like a normal guy says.
In any event, I strapped Pete in the passenger seat with a seat belt as we left for Minneapolis.
Smashing the Bunny
Pete the Bunny's biggest selling point is the joy his annihilation gives youngsters, so I wasn't about to let my curmudgeonly coworkers wield the mallet.
I instead enlisted the three best boys for the job: My nephews Calvin, 9; Elliot, 7; and Henry, 6. There was a degree of trepidation on the text thread among the parents. Would the boys balk at the idea of caving in the skull of something so cute?
Uh, not an issue.
"We're gonna kill Pete! We're gonna kill Pete!" they chanted in excited unison as the boxed bunny appeared.
"Will he go to the bunny afterworld? I feel so bad for him," Calvin said while eyeing Pete. "He's laying on his deathbed and he doesn't even know it."
"Let's use a jackhammer!" Henry countered.
Our arsenal consisted of three full Nalgene bottles, and the boys took turns swinging them downward into Pete, who lay cocooned in a blanket. Three swift blows did the job. The boys provided a few more for good measure.
"Is Pete alive? Will Pete be OK? He's hollow! he's hollow! It's a bubble, a solid bubble! Ahhhhhh!" exclaimed Elliot as we drew back the blanket, revealing large shards of former bunny. "His ears are still alive! His ears look like eyes!!!"
We then feasted on Pete.
Eating the Bunny
Pete's flesh tastes great, like any smooth higher-end milk chocolate bar you'll find at Kowalski's or the co-op. Portioning out his shattered remains proves a bit tricky (make sure you've got lots of large to-go storage options), but everyone leaves happy. Or at least my nephews did.
"I'm vegetarian, but he's very yummy!" Cal contended. "Hershey's are disgusting. This is good. A bit pricey, but definitely worth it."
"Easter tradition!!!" shouted Henry, more or less agreeing.
Well there you have it.
