A few days before Valentine’s Day, my partner in crime and I attended a mini chocolate festival. Mini because it was not as big as the festival I attended four years ago (https://notesfromthecupcakerescueleague.wordpress.com/tag/raw-chocolate/). But it was good enough, featuring local chocolatiers and their generous samples. As with the previous festival, I enjoyed many tastes, many flavors. For Valentine’s, my partner in crime surprised me with four bars from my favorite chocolate makers.
Where I live, there is a chocolate monster, who sniffs out chocolate and eats it. I didn’t want that to happen, so I hid my new chocolates in what I thought was a safe place–inside a box, below another box, inside a cabinet. Shh…don’t tell. Hard to believe, I forgot about my chocolates.
Until one day, when I heard “Chocolate, chocolate.” It sounded like the Chocolate Monster. I had to get to my chocolates before it did. I wracked my brain, trying to remember where I put them. A vision came to me. Phew–what a relief.
I dug out the box beneath the box inside the cabinet. I carefully lifted the lid. There were my treasures. I felt as excited as if I had just found ancient pottery ware.
I would have photographed my archaeological find to share with you. Sadly, the Chocolate Monster beat me to the bars…and none are left.
If you travel at home or abroad, it is wise to attach a luggage tag to your luggage; if your bags go missing, they will find their way to you. But what if your luggage tag gets lost?
After visiting my dear friend in Victoria, B.C. Saturday, I arrived at my B&B, only to discover that my shoulder’s bag luggage tag had fallen off.
Had it stayed in the tea room to indulge more smoked salmon sandwiches? Checked out the Fringe Festival? Wandered Chinatown’s alleyways and indulged in organic dark truffles with maple cream, smoked salt, and orange? Maybe it was hanging out in the shade of the giant acorns in a nearby village.
While I retraced my steps over the next twenty-four hours, I tried to remind myself that losing a luggage tag was minimal compared to, say, losing my passport or I.D. It was even better than losing my sunhat, which I accidentally left behind in the Vancouver airport the last time I was in the area.
But this was no ordinary luggage tag; it was my favorite luggage tag. It showed three lion cubs on one side and my contact info on the other. I felt concerned for it, splat on some unknown sidewalk.
I wondered who my luggage tag was without its attachment to me; I felt lost without it.
Perhaps my luggage tag needed its own tag to find its way back.
Whoever heard of kale causing cavities? That was my first thought when my new dentist told me I had a cavity.
Granted, it was a teeny, teeny, tiny, tiny one. But still, I was shocked. After all, I eat my kale and other vegetables, too.
True, I do make exceptions on occasion. Such as the time I had baked hot chocolate, or when I ate wild blueberry sorbet, or the carrot cake with cilantro candy, or the dark chocolate mousse with cacao nibs, or the coconut cupcake with chocolate ganache and coconut caramel icing, or the gingersnaps, the chocolate chip coconut cranberry pecan cookie, or the rugelach, or the raspberry croissant with raspberry jam and chocolate, or the opera cake, or the baklava, or homemade nougat, or gianduia…
I did not catalog this year’s desserts for my dentist. Nor did I tell him about the group I’m in for people who love to eat and bake desserts.
Instead, I said with a toothy grin, “I have a cavity? How did that happen???”
That’s my tongue in cheek humor for you.