A Healthy Diet Is Like a Piece of Chocolate in Both Hands: What I Learned to Cook from Melting Chocolate

It started with a pan full of water and a noble but faulty plan to melt a chunk of Scotbloc, as many culinary catastrophes do. The plastic bowl was set on top of a pot that would have made a boiler technician shudder, the chocolate was split from its industrial slab into waxy, uneven pieces, and the Rice Krispies were waiting in their package like silent guests.

I would later discover that this was my first unsuccessful effort at a bain-marie, a delicate technique known for its quiet persuasion and moderate heat. It was more akin to a volcanic baptism in my kitchen, though. The chocolate turned into a gritty, curdled mess that resembled volcanic ash more than dessert, while the water boiled over and frothed. Like wet cement, it broke. Nevertheless, I persisted. I thought the sugar would cover up my transgressions, so I mixed the mixture with Rice Krispies. It didn't.

Even though the transition did not work out, there was something about the procedure that annoyed me.

Peely Wally Crispy Cake's Ascent

The second time, I changed my strategy. Cremation of chocolate is out. This time, my goal was to remove as many "cakes" as I could from the Krispies box. The outcome was pallid, almost spectral. The sort of off-white cluster that, in the world of patisserie today, may have been considered a novel idea. Had I been older and braver, I may have changed their name to Blondies. Rather, in my household, they were lovingly referred to as peely wallys, a Scottish term meaning appearing rather ill, which was strangely appropriate in this instance.

However, when we stop trying to impress and just try to get it right, things usually get better. I can not tell if this is a marketing fiction or a recollection, but I vividly recall a cereal box that had a recipe printed on the back and a block of cooking chocolate Velcroed to the side. It was revolutionary. Yes, you, said a small permission slip from the retailer. You are capable of creating something.

That batch was successful. It was a huge success. And something clicked somewhere in that sticky, sweet process.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, this marked the start of my future career in kitchens. I gradually came to adore it. And occasionally out of.

Chocolate Knowledge Acquired knowledge the hard way

In and out of the kitchen, I still tell people this: Chocolate in your pocket = melting chocolate. Although it is a straightforward fact, it has significance. Chocolate is a delicate substance. If handled improperly, it melts. Ignoring it causes it to seize. Despite this, the majority of us have a devotional-like passion for it.

Chocolate rarely disappoints, whether it is your go-to corner store bar, an artisanal single-origin square with hints of oak moss and cherry bark, or just a hot cup of cocoa on a gloomy morning. Furthermore, it is not the adversary, despite what the wellness sector occasionally claims.

Use milk if you are not a fan of dark chocolate. You can use half and half if the milk seems overly sweet. This is not a lawbook. Add a touch of sea salt, a swirl of peanut butter, or a dash of vanilla. Add some chocolate curls at the end, carefully scraped from a block with a vegetable peeler, and you have achieved something that tastes like memories but looks like work.

And that is the true purpose of food. Not flawless. Not method. However, there are moments. Little, shaky, mouthwatering moments.