little miss cocoa

On principle, I dislike human interest stories when they’re stuffed into the nightly news. In reality, my sister and I are sitting in the family room pleading, ‘Don’t change it! Don’t change it! I want to see the elephant and the dog!’

I present: the elephant and the dog.

Planet Earth! The place where beautiful vistas alternate with baby killings. My sister gave a copy of the series to my father for Christmas, despite my protestations that in spite of the gorgeous high definition panoramas, mostly, life is about hard times for the cutest among us. And that is hard to see.

But, as all comedians can tell you after this fall’s rousing election, the most depressing news can often be made palatable when you insert a laugh:

Happy new year, chocolateers! It’s time for resolutions, for example, only eating chocolates containing 70% cocoa or more. But since milk chocolate will sometimes sneak up on you via truffle filling or candy dish, I had to find something a little more do-able.

Resolution #1: Improve my bottle opening technique. When finagling the cork out of a wine bottle in order to make mulled wine, I accidentally cracked the lip of the bottle. A milk tooth of glass chipped off. I suppose that this could be fixed by buying a Corkscrew-for-Dummies, except that I also got very confused at around ten seconds to midnight about how exactly to open the bottle of champagne, even though the directions were printed clearly on the side. S took over popping duties because I looked so nervous. He did an excellent job (nothing broke, a little plume of smoke whispered out, and then champagne was poured for all), then later went up on the roof with a bunch of people to really pop a cork over Philadelphia.

Next year, I hope to pull out this fancy trick to redeem my flustered midnight self:

When my sister and I watched ‘Wall-E’, we nearly died of laughter before the movie even began. I think we created a scene. Arms and legs flailed. Here’s why:

As a tenderhearted eleven year old, it took me years to recover from watching half of The Princess Bride, thanks to the ROUS (Rodents of Unusual Size). However, I’ve come to realize that the problem was not that the rodents were unusually sized, it was that the rodents were toothy, vicious, shoulder-gnawing rats. If the rodents were, say, hamsters, or bunnies, the situation would be much different.

Introducing Germany’s enormous bunnies:

Matched in awesomeness only by Germany’s tiny cows:

And, since the tenderhearted and squeamish eleven year old turned into an only marginally less tenderhearted and squeamish twenty-six year old, here is not a clip of ROUS from The Princess Bride:

I want to be put to music, too!

Perfect picnic food. Great in any season. Hearty (chickpeas), refreshing (tomato and mint), spicy (onion, garlic, and pepper), with great texture (smooth and crunchy). I loooove balela.

Trader Joe’s sells balela in little eight ounce containers. Unfortunately, my appetite for balela is exponentially greater than the servings they offer! Also, it’s a little expensive. I looked for a recipe online, but couldn’t find one. Desperate, out of options, with a hungry belly only 1/4 full of the balela I wished to eat, I looked at the ingredients list on the side of the container, and made it myself.

Ingredients:
Two 15 ounce cans chickpeas
3/4 cup tomatoes chopped into 1/2 inch pieces (I use cherry tomatoes for a firmer bite)
1/2 cup Vidalia onion chopped into 1/4 inch pieces
1/2 cup minced fresh mint, parsley, or mint and parsley
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup white balsamic vinegar (regular white vinegar is fine, but I like balsamic better)
1 clove garlic, pressed
1/4 teaspoon powdered hot pepper
sea salt and black pepper to taste

Directions:
Drain the liquid from the chickpeas and pour into a bowl. After that, pour everything in the bowl and gently mix together. Eat. Eat a lot. Share with your boyfriend so he also has onion and garlic breath. Later, after dessert, while watching TV, eat some more. Sustain boyfriend’s garlic breath by sneaking a few extra chickpeas into his mouth. Spear the last wayward bits and consume. Sigh happily.

Lemon curd! Is delicious!

I did not know this until I had fresh lemon curd for the first time last Christmas Eve, on a warm scone. Unlike store-bought versions, which are too starchy, fresh lemon curd is kept semi-solid thanks to some gently cooked (very, very, very gently, like newborn baby gently) eggs. I made some for my boyfriend’s sister-in-law’s birthday. It almost didn’t make it out the door. There was a lot of licking of spoons.

So here is my lemon curd recipe:

1/2 cup freshly squeezed organic lemon juice
2 tsp grated lemon zest
1/2 cup sugar
3 eggs
3/4 stick (6 tblsp) unsalted butter, cut into chunks

In a saucepan, whisk together the lemon juice, zest, sugar, and eggs. Turn on the heat on the stove to a little higher than low, and continue whisking with the pan on the heat while stirring in the butter (I like this part, when the butter swirls around to its eventual demise, like a wicked witch). At some point, like magic, the curd will firm up. S had just walked into the kitchen and I was just saying to him ‘this is taking forever’ when it firmed up and became more gel-like as if giving me as much of the finger as a gel-like substance can! Unfortunately, because my kitchen is not particularly well-stocked and my pan was quite thin, some of the egg also began to curdle. I whisked madly, but to no avail. Which takes me to the final step.

With a spatula, ease the curd into a fine-mesh strainer, and help the curd through the mesh with the back of a spoon. The strainer will catch any bits of curdled egg and lemon zest, so that the final product is deliciously smooth.

Pour into a jar and serve! Or, if you’re keeping it longer, stick in the refrigerator. Fresh lemon curd will last about a week refrigerated.

Consensus? Well, S and I thought it was great stuff. We carried the warm jar of curd to his sister-in-law’s apartment and, like bandits, knocked furtively on the door, left it on the doormat, and ran. Some days later, her verdict (we left a card, so she figured out pretty quick who’d come and gone) came in: most delicious on a scone.

When I was in Paris a few years back (aw, who doesn’t like to say that?) a friend tossed up some salad with the best dressing I’d ever tasted.

“Guillaume! What’s in this?”

“It is so easy…’

Here is where Guillaume usually begins discussing a very difficult recipe involving ingredients I have never heard of, many complicated steps, and probably cream. But this time he meant it:

“…It is just olive oil, and balsamic vinegar, and some mustard.”

It is true! So here’s my friend’s magical French recipe for delicious salad dressing:

Equal parts balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and a squirt or two of really good quality, course ground or dijon mustard (insert Grey Poupon joke here). Whip madly until the oil doesn’t separate from the vinegar, and pour over greens.

Today I have to go to the dentist. I have not been to the dentist in one year and four months. I am not excitedly anticipating: when he pokes at my fillings to determine whether they’re watertight and the pick sticks just a little bit to the filling, when they do the whirly brush with the paste and it tickles my gums and makes me feel nauseous, when he scrapes at my teeth with the pokey thing and the assistant asks my bleeding gums if I floss my teeth regularly, which I do, even if the evidence begs otherwise.
Any chocolate lover should have a favorite toothpaste, floss, mouthwash, and toothbrush, for proper tooth decay deceleration. Here are mine:

Preserve toothbrushes: recycled, recyclable, no-nonsense brushes in a variety of non-sporty colors, like plain ol’ black (my favorite). Most toothbrushes look like high-tech bicycle shorts or running sneakers. This is unnecessary, and bad for decor. Also, when you’re done, you can send the brush back to the company to be turned into picnic tables and boardwalks.

Listerine mouthwash: Mitch Hedberg said: ‘When you put Listerine in your mouth, it hurts. Germs do not go quietly.’ It is true. And then your smile is a little blue.

Sensodyne toothpaste: My chocolate habits are catching up to me, and my teeth are starting to hurt when I eat a little too much sugar. Even commercials of people eating ice cream is starting to put little shivers down my spine. Sensodyne is like very, very minor novocaine. Eat all the sugar you want.

Reach CleanPaste Floss: I’m starting to embarrass myself by promoting tooth products, but this one is really my favorite: plushy floss that really gets between your teeth and scrubs out whatever’s in there.

Coda: Both the dental hygienist and dentist praised me on my fine teeth. Huzzah!