It seems that whenever one (and I speak as an estrogen-infused one) is in the bowels of depression, chocolate is the only effective antidote.

I know you’ve heard it all before.  The cravings.  The female thing.  The bitchiness.  The dark chocolate.  It is all a mysteriuos whirlpool of hormones, self-fulfilling prophecy and a bland recollection of scientific data we willfully and eagerly accept and promote.  It is, in a way, a mantra to hum over and over to ourselves, in blind hopes that it will ease all the discomforts, and there are many, of our day to day living, especially on the bleak and rainy days.  Hmmm…Chocolate cures all….Hmmm

And for one moment, one creamy, rich, sinful moment, it does.  It eases anxiety, sadness, hopelessness, and especially, that unsatiable desire for sweet and bitter, dark and white, and lately, for me, salt ...Read on]]>

It seems that whenever one (and I speak as an estrogen-infused one) is in the bowels of depression, chocolate is the only effective antidote.

I know you’ve heard it all before.  The cravings.  The female thing.  The bitchiness.  The dark chocolate.  It is all a mysteriuos whirlpool of hormones, self-fulfilling prophecy and a bland recollection of scientific data we willfully and eagerly accept and promote.  It is, in a way, a mantra to hum over and over to ourselves, in blind hopes that it will ease all the discomforts, and there are many, of our day to day living, especially on the bleak and rainy days.  Hmmm…Chocolate cures all….Hmmm

And for one moment, one creamy, rich, sinful moment, it does.  It eases anxiety, sadness, hopelessness, and especially, that unsatiable desire for sweet and bitter, dark and white, and lately, for me, salt and sugar.  I’ve become obsessed with sea salt dark chocolate, and find myself so enchanted by it that I am required to sit on the couch, place a piece in my mouth, and close my eyes to fully experience it.  I don’t tell myself to eat the chocolate this way, I just do and can’t seem to enjoy it any other way.

My daughter has discovered the word ‘glum.’  She tries interjecting it in most sentences.  She seems to like the way it sounds, so, it was no surprise when she asked me tonight at bedtime  if today was a glum day for me.  I got nervous for a second there.  Was it that apparent?  Did I not hide the look of despair well enough? Was she this intuitive or was I that bad?  Of course, it really boils down to her love of the word I soon realized after she followed her question with her commentary about Goldie’s glum day swimming around in the tank with so much mold on it.  Yes, Goldie is glum and a goldfish.  But I quietly thought about her question and I suppose it had been a glum day for me too. It was rainy, I was home alone, and I was cooking, so, really, it should have been cause for celebration, but something was off and I was glum.  I’ll blame it on the hormones and another important bit, I was out of my salty chocolate.

So, in honor of the ancient culinary companion that is chocolate, I offer a truly decandent and sinfully tasty treat.  No need to have glum days or be a bitchy female to enjoy this one either.  Just keep the couch nearby.  You may have to sit and close your eyes to enjoy.

Sorry.  I’m still somewhere sipping cafe creme.  Paris.  Tel-Aviv.  Madrid.

No doubt gaining weight just breathing deliciousness. I guarantee I am dunking something sweet into my beverage.  There I go.  There I go again.

More later, upon my return. Just need one more sugar cube…

Disculpen.  Sigo en otra parte del globo disfrutando de mi cafe creme.  Paris.  Tel-Aviv.  Madrid.

Les aseguro que estoy engordando tan solo por respirar el aire delicioso. Y les garantizo que estoy remojando algo dulce en mi cafe.  Alli voy.  Alli voy otra vez.

Mas sobre estas aventuras cuando regrezca.  Pero primero, me hace falta un cubito mas de azucar…

CUT AND PASTE HERE