01/10/02
Life, Like Chocolates
"Life," according to Forrest Gump's mother, "Is like a box of
chocolates. You never know what you're going to get."
Mrs. Gump lived in a world long since passed.
Witness the numerous boxes of confectionery treats I received this
past Christmas from students, staff and friends.
Perhaps it is my Swiss-German heritage that celebrates any
opportunity to savor chocolate. Milk chocolate. Dark chocolate.
Semi-sweet chocolate. Chocolate bunnies and chocolate-covered
peanuts. Hot chocolate, more accurately called hot cocoa.
All the same, the marriage of cocoa powder and sugar has an appeal
to me. To be sure, there are high-quality chocolates sold at upwards
of $10.00 per pound. There is also the plain-label variety of
chocolate available at any grocery store.
When the sweet-tooth needs a fix, a handful of store-brand chocolate
chips is as good as an expensive piece of hand-dipped Fanny Mae.
Chocolate is chocolate, regardless of form. Whatever is hidden in
there, the active ingredient works for me. Syrup, powder, chip or bar.
And as for not knowing what lay ahead--whether it be in life or in a
five-pound assortment from Russell Stovers--today's world provides
answers.
For life-guiding advice, there is the proliferation of 1-800 numbers
for psychic guidance. For chocolate lovers, every box of creamy
confection I received this year came with a descriptive card, 'cheat
sheet' or a graphic which showed each chocolate piece and described
the type of cocoa and filling it contained.
Scrumptious bite-sized mounds of brown gold labeled "Hazelnut
Bouquet", "Tropico", "Royale" and "Rum Butter Truffle" tempt the weak
with descriptions like "a MASTERPIECE of milk chocolate with a
smooth, sumptuous, buttery caramel center surrounding chopped
almonds."
But in every box, there are a few undesirable treats. Most contain
coconut. Somewhere, someone with a wicked sense of humor determined
the joining of chocolate and a tropical fruit would somehow make the
latter palatable.
It doesn't. Never has, and never will. Give me coconut cream pie.
Shred coconut on Jello-laced with pineapple and marshmallows. Bake
cookies with coconut in them, like some kind of organic reinforcement
bar.
But don't mix coconut with chocolate. It ruins both. Which is why,
even decades ago, my Aunt Gwen knew a way one COULD know what was in
a box of chocolates, even if telling the future was impossible.
A large box of chocolates always came from a relative in far-off
celebration, everyone took their chances in a confection lottery. Win
and the prize was a chocolate filled with nugget, cream or caramel.
Lose, and the recipient choked down chocolate and coconut, grimacing
all the while.
Except for Aunt Gwen, who seemed to always get the piece of candy
she wanted. When we were older, we discovered her secret. My auntie
didn't use tarot cards, a crystal ball or tea leaves. Her method of
precognition was simplistic but effective.
Turning each piece over, she poked her index finger into the bottom
until it gave way, showing forth its interior. When the desired
center was uncovered, the fate of the morsel was sure.
The unsuspecting of us simply lived by chance. And suffered through
the swallowing of the dreaded coconut center, often those which, had
we been savvy to the methodology of our perceptive Auntie, we might
have avoided.
Life, Mrs. Gump, is actually like Aunt Gwen's finger. By sticking
it out, you get what you want.