Death by Chocolate

After visiting home last weekend, I returned to Gainesville with some chocolate bars. It’s not that chocolate is difficult to find in Gainesville, it’s just that it’s difficult to find good chocolate when the only nearby supermarket is Publix. So I packed a bag containing the following two flavors, and began my return journey:

• Dark chocolate with sea salt and almonds
• Chocolate ganache inside a dark chocolate shell

I love ganache, and I don’t mean that in the ‘Kardashian’ sense at all. My love is pure – the combination of cream and chocolate creates a lusciously smooth and silky sensation that spreads warmth in the belly, creating oodles of happiness inside. Chocolate bars seem cold and distant in comparison.

Alas, I couldn’t resist. I gingerly ripped the golden chocolate ganache wrapper, and gently placed a square in my mouth. It melted instantly – ganache oozing. Pieces two and three followed suit.

Eventually self control gripped me. I placed the chocolate back in its wrapper, folded over the corner, put it inside a a shopping bag, and forgot about it until for the rest of the ride.

As I was unpacking, I noticed a brown stain at the bottom of the white shopping bag.  Flaring my nostrils, I detected the aroma of melted chocolate. Upon opening the bag I realized the outer chocolate shell of the bar had softened in the heat, leaving the inner ganachey goodness free-flowing.

In  a race against time. I cautiously removed the golden wrapper and peered at the damage done. The bar was as soft as pudding, with ganache trickling down the box. I cringed; the ganache was reminiscent of a horror movie blood bath.

It was do or die. I rolled up the sleeves on my [white] U.S. soccer jersey, and began to quickly eat the chocolate bar – before it melted all over the countertop.

With my eye on the prize, I emulated the noble giraffe by sticking out my tongue - hoping to use it to dislodge a chocolate square. I aimed for the bar and leaned forwards. This failed miserably. My nose hit the chocolate before my tongue, and was tainted brown.

Ignoring the warmth on my nose, I pressed forward and hit the target. I pushed up with my tongue, yet ultimately this tactic failed as well. The bottom of the chocolate remained lodged to the wrapper, while the top half fell on the countertop. As I wiped it clean with a paper towel, I considered my next plan of attack.

I helmeted up and became the steadfast paper football athlete. Going in finger first, I wedged between two rows of chocolate and then flicked the squares off the paper. This worked perfectly, but I failed to plan ahead. There was no dam underneath the box to collect the chocolate river, which immediately began streaming out.

There was no time to think – I dove in. Ganache coating my hands; I couldn’t lick fast enough. The ensuing minutes progressed as follows:

• 0:00 – I get to consume nearly 25 squares of deliciousness in one sitting?  Yeehaw!
• 0:30 – Three squares gone, 21 to go. Waste not want not!
• 0:45 – Have I really eaten only  five squares?
• 1:05 – Seven pieces of chocolate was a great dessert… but what now?
• 1:30 – Chocolate has stopped tasting good.
• 1:40 – Even though it’d be a waste of a perfectly good chocolate bar, I really wouldn’t mind throwing it away.
• 1:55 – I wish my roommate was home to help…
• 2:10 – I hate the taste of chocolate.
• 2:30 – Is this karma for not buying Fair Trade?
• 2:45 – Bleh.
• 3:05 – How did I get chocolate behind my left ear?

After eating 17 out of the 24 chocolate squares, I took a brief break. A lightbulb lit up in my head; I realized that I could simply put the chocolate in a tupperware container and store it in the fridge until a later date.

The ‘later date’ was today. I enjoyed the hardened chocolate pieces as a topping for homemade peach-honey sorbet. No chocolate wasted, and an overall happy ending;.

Or rather – a ‘sweet’ ending…