Seggsual Chocolate: Truth behind taste

The cold hits your tongue first, a velvety dark chocolate that feels too heavy to be dairy-free. Then comes the crunch; the violent snap of Stracciatella chocolate and the nostalgic shatter of candy-coated mini eggs. Finally, a slow, numbing heat from Mala spice crawls up the back of your throat. This isn’t just ice cream…

When Roger Mooking sat down with Erik Chow and Michael Lam of Good Behaviour, the air was thick with five years of spiritual pressure. Roger had been sitting on a concept that most corporate brands would find terrifying: Seggsual Chocolate.

“I have been walking around with this idea for five years,”

“I have been walking around with this idea for five years,” Roger admits, his eyes reflecting the depth of the 70% dark chocolate base. For him, the name is a Trojan horse. On the surface, it’s a cheeky nod to 80’s pop culture and a “menage à trois” of egg motifs, real egg yolks in the base, cracked mini eggs in the fold, and the literal sexuality of the name. Underneath the humour of his head photoshopped onto a hyper-masculine body is a visceral commentary on the hypersexualization of Black masculinity.

“We are launching this for February,” Roger says, leaning into the complexity. “It’s Valentine’s Day. It’s Black History Month, but we are also the ‘flavour of the month’ at Good Behaviour. It forces the question; are we just a temporary commodity? A trope? Or do we have roots?”

Erik, the technical architect behind Good Behaviour’s reputation for integrity, didn’t flinch at the provocation. Instead, he saw a formulaic challenge. “We generally make a custard ice cream: milk, cream, sugar, egg yolk,” Erik explains. “Roger wanted a dairy-free version that still captured that ‘victory prize’ richness. We did 15 testers of the formula before we landed on this.”

The result is a culinary anomaly: a dairy-free custard. By utilizing egg yolks (a traditional stabilizer that most industrial brands have traded for artificial gums) Erik created a mouthfeel that defies the watery expectations of vegan desserts. “We wanted the heaviest possible product,” Erik says. “It’s not meant to be crushed in one sitting. It’s an indulgence that demands attention, like a fine truffle or a ribeye.”

The dialogue between these two creators is where craftsmanship meets social rebellion. While Erik obsessively balanced the Maldon salt pops to accentuate the sweetness, Roger was ensuring the artwork whispered “try it once” in yellow text, a blatant play on the “once you go Black” trope.

“I’m a storyteller,” Roger notes, dismissing the labels of chef, or musician. “My tools just happen to include the palate. We are coming to people where they are: at the ice cream shop with their kids and forcing a conversation through their mouths.”

“It’s an indulgence that demands attention, like a fine truffle or a ribeye.”

Even their shared identity as “bamboo shoots,” an English translated Chinese term for those born in the diaspora with “no roots,” informed the collaboration. Erik, and Michael of Chinese and Vietnamese descent, found common ground in the way they both navigate Western spaces while carrying inherited histories. This collaboration is an act of solidarity and amplification.

Behind the scenes, the integrity extends beyond the pint. Proceeds from this February launch is diverted to mentorship programs in Gray County, providing access to spaces for those who have been historically excluded.

You might think you are just buying a pint of premium chocolate, but as the Mala spice begins to numb your lips and the richness of the egg yolks settles in, you realize you are consuming a narrative about power, perception, and the refusal to be anyone’s “flavour of the month.”

Your next step? Stop consuming the stories others write for you. Like Roger, Erik, and Michael realize, your “lack of roots” in traditional systems is actually your greatest strength. It allows you to build a foundation that is entirely your own. Own your narrative, even if it makes the world a little bit uncomfortable.