like chocolate. deep, dark, luscious chocolate....
Comfort Me With Chocolates
THE love affair began just after my 17th birthday. Ensconced in a resort town on the North Sea in Belgium, romance beckoned. Not with the man I met that vacation, though years later he became my husband. With chocolate.
Breakfast there was never cornflakes. Staying at a Belgian cousin's home, I dined on slabs of seductively rich dark chocolate laid across cursty French rolls slathered in creamy butter, accompanied by melt-in-your-mouth chocolate croissants. I was enchanted. Midafternoon at a seaside cafe, I lusted for sumptuous seashells, a confection or a candy of luscious swirls of white, milk and dark chocolate, served with every cup of coffee. At supper I sampled the cheese, then savored thick layers of chocolate sprinkles heaped onto baguettes. I was supposed to be studying French. I learned to adore European chocolate and Belgian cuisine.
Flash forward to Long Island, nearly three decades later, My French is rusty. My passion for chocolate remains strong. But the husband, who for years brought home bars and boxes of fresh Belgian chocolate from frequent business trips abroad, now steadfastly refuses, issuing no-so-cryptic warnings about hips and thighs. Never mind. Long Island has enough chocolatiers for serious chocolate lovers to find sinfully rich, sweet-tooth bliss right in their own backyards.
To read the whole story, click here:
Comfort Me With Chocolates - New York Times
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