For the Love of Chocolate

Claire was allowed to order a hot chocolate when we went out to breakfast on Sunday morning, and the delight on her face lit up the whole dining room. I’m generally a staunch opponent of sugar in all its evil forms, but I lay down my arms when it comes to chocolate. Not just any chocolate, mind you; it has to be credentialed.

Apparently, this is an inherited trait. My grandmother adores the stuff; I think it’s one of the great joys of her slowly turning days. My mother took my father to Angélina on the day they were married in Paris. The hot chocolate there is so thick you can stand a spoon on end in the pot; it's not for the faint-hearted.

Chloé, who hasn’t been to New York but is eager to go, puts Serendipity III (home of the famous Frrrozen Hot Chocolate) as her first stop when she hits the Upper East Side. Claire isn’t so particular about her chocolate yet, but she will be.

I’ve moved on from the liquid form myself, only indulging in the finest, darkest variety, one small piece at a time. Rechiutti is my current obsession, and how convenient, his shop is only a short ferry ride away. At Christmastime, we hand roll our own truffles at home. They’re supposed to be gifts, but most of them never make it out the door.

The history of chocolate is fascinating, with earliest records of cocoa consumption dating back to traces found in Honduran terra cotta pots from 1100 B.C. It wasn’t until the 19^th century that chocolate was eaten in solid form, but aficionados have sure made up for lost time since then. You can read a more in-depth story of chocolate in all its guises in a great online article, The Sweet Lure of Chocolate.

As for me, I have to go now. I’ve got a craving, and it won’t be denied.