Reub's journey

13 February 2012


Sunday afternoon, just before Valentine's Day, we went to a very fun chocolate party, John and I.  I took a 10x15 inch chicken empanada. (I see that spell-check wishes me to say empaneling...what's that?) I figured there would be plenty of chocolate, and there was, so that was why I decided upon the empanada/empaneling, baked with onions, olive oil and golden raisins. It was good.

When we left, being of northern European extraction-and also slightly weight-conscious,-I traded my left-over empanada for bratwursts which I love, but not one of the following amazing desserts which were offered:

1. Cheesecake drizzled with chocolate-hazelnut sauce
2. A rich chocolate bundt cake with mocha whipped cream
3. Chocolate mousse
4. Tiny chocolate cookies to be dipped in cinnamon cream.

These were truly fantastic desserts, and today I kick myself for not accepting a plate full of them as we left. Damn, what's the matter with me. I could run it off, I could. I am totally craving that cheesecake right now, also the bundt cake and mousse. Honestly, it was all divine.

What is the matter with me, chocolate-wise? It  goes back to my childhood (of course, doesn't everything?) How many times did I hear my father tell me about being nurtured by an amazing black nanny/cook in New Orleans, who fed him chocolate every day? Every day: chocolate pie! By the time he was an adult, he was sick of it. Sick. Of. It.

So my mother, a fantastic cook, never made chocolate and often repeated the reason why ("your father"). That meant, though, that I was treated to a multitude of berry/fruit-related desserts, a mountain of butter-related treats, a plethora of pies and cookies. No chocolate, but tons of butter and berries, an even trade. I think so.

I also really love bratwurst, and that's what I'm eating right now: courtesy of the chocolate party.

If you have 30 seconds this is a wonderful poem about chocolate, read by poet Rita Dove, a poet laureate from the 90's.


  1. I can eat half a bar of dark chocolate no problem. but the desserts? I probably would have passed on them too and not because of a few pounds. When menopause came, my sweet tooth left. Cakes...never really liked them. Candy...maybe one piece but probably not. Pie, now. I can eat some pie.

  2. guh. I wish I was nurtured by an amazing black nanny/cook in New Orleans who fed me chocolate every day.

  3. Mmmmmm....good think I am full or I would be looking for chocolate!

  4. Elle: Visit me. I make the best straight-up blueberry or apple pie anywhere. My mother taught me well! Seriously. Fruit pie to die for.

    ALRN: I know, right? I resented him because of that nanny and all of those chocolate pies, which I still covet. I adore New Orleans.

    Laoch: The closest I've come to chocolate fondue is a dipped strawberry, and it was very very good.

    Rebecca: Even when one is full, chocolate seems to beckon, doesn't it?

  5. More will power than me, I have to say. I love chocolate!! My dad, similar to yours, went to work at the chocolate factory..... pigged out on too many Aero bars and could not eat chocolate after that, so my mom never made chocolate desserts. We had mostly apple desserts, cakes and gingerbread. I only need a little every once in a while. I loved the poem. Thank you for sharing, Kerry.

  6. Thanks for reading the poem Linda! I thought it was wonderful.

    How interesting that both of our dad overdid chocolate!


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