Deep Dark Chocolate
It shouldn’t be any other way. I grew up loving chocolate. Hershey invaded my life very early. When there was Russell Stover’s candy in the house it was the assorted chocolate box; at that time in my life all I knew about dark chocolate was it was the last candy I would eat, and that was through sheer desperation. The one exception, which by the way still remains in tact, was OREOS. I cannot say enough about those cookies, so I will only say you love um or you’re not all there.
Time moves on, you grow and you tastes change, but my love of milk chocolate remained pure. Pure, really, milk chocolate is cocoa in one of it’s most processed form. I do have to give honorable mention to the so-called white chocolate and it’s rich texture, even though the extreme sweetness over takes any substantial flavor. Now as our waistlines increase and blood pressure rises, we all know that dark chocolate has a hosts of positive affects. Yet it is difficult to equate good to you and good for you when we think of this decadence. We ladies for the most part crave this, our chocolate love or love of chocolate.
A few nights ago it hit me, I was in the mood for something sweet, I didn’t know what so I figured “go down the cookie aisle and you will find some chocolate love”. I fought and resisted the urge to go on and pick up the familiar blue package with the picture of the most beautiful cookie on the planet. There are no secrets or surprises there, no challenge, plus if all else failed I knew where I could get satisfaction.
Instead I reached for the milk chocolate creme filled Milano, for reasons unknown. I had them once before and felt they could take care of this wanton desire. I couldn’t wait until I got out of the store before I had ripped open the package and quickly bit into one. There it was nothingness and disappointment all in one blow. The cookie tasted “brown” not chocolate. It was sweet but clearly not enough cocoa was put into this recipe. I struggled through another bite but had to resign myself to”this was a mistake”. The only thing to do was to run back into the store and indulge myself.
However, I resisted and moved on but was this a success? I must ask because here we are 7 days later, and there is the need to talk about how unfulfilled I felt after that encounter. Delving deeper and deeper into the “chocolatety” question, I ask what is this truly about. How would I rank my chocolate love; experience(what I prefer), expectation(what I think I prefer) or pattern(what I have in actuality preferred) the answers would all be different. Although if you read me(literally), that revelation should not surprise you in the least.