So I am bidding you a fond farewell as I pack up the family for 2 glorious weeks in Mexico. Mojitos and sunshine here we come!
I should admit that when I travel, I am a bit of an over-planner. Okay, I am a serious over-planner. I have a packing fetish and an enthusiasm for lists that I can check off twice.
Everyone knows one of the most important thing to plan for are the snacks for the journey. So, what wonderful timing that some fine folks at Emily's Chocolates sent me four cute boxes of chocolate to sample as I was knee-deep in vacation organization mode.
My intention was to bring them along on the fight. But as you might have guessed, I have less will power than Telly Sevalis has hair, and I already ate them. All.
First there was the box of cherry hazelnuts which I expected to be a cherry infused hazelnut covered in dark chocolate. Instead, it was a nice mixture of some chocolate covered cherries and chocolate covered hazelnuts. And it was lovely and tasted exactly as you'd imagine it to.
Then there was the Cranberry Almonds which, similarly, was a 50/50 split of dark chocolate covered cranberries and dark chocolate covered almonds. Sweet and satisfying and, again, exactly as you'd expect.
I had a feeling the chocolate covered graham crackers would be a favourite. Because, I mean, chocolate covered graham crackers?!?! And they didn't disappoint. I could eat them daily they were that good.
But the unexpected and undeniable best of the bunch were the milk chocolate cocoa dusted pecan halves. I have to confess that when food writers and restaurant menus use the term "dusted" to describe any sort of culinary creation it doesn't do it for me. Call me literal (which usually I am not), but all I can think of is dusty food. Ick. So at first I was sure I wouldn't be into these because of my peculiar semantic hang-up, but I am a lover of pecans so I gave it a shot anyway. And wow. Seriously. W-O-W. The other chocolates they sent were not even in the same league. They shouldn't have even been shipped in the same box. These dusty morsels were spectacular. They were not too sweet and the texture was brilliant and they tasted elegant and fabulous and every other excessive descriptor you can think of. They were perfect. Thank you Emily.
So the moral of the story is that: a) I should just buy my travel treats at the airport so they are not consumed before I've even left the house and b) dusty food isn't so bad. In fact, it's un-freaking-believable if you are a cocoa dusted pecan half.
Be back in 2 weeks with tales of Mexican chocolate. Adios!
So you may have noticed that I have a sweet tooth. Shocking, I know.
I fully acknowledge that I have no self control when it comes to chocolate. Everyone has a price and chocolate just happens to be mine.
That would be all easy peasy except that at the same time as I am unapologetically living life as an active chocoholic, I am trying to raise a seven-year-old to grow up with healthy eating habits.
It's not like our cupboards are stocked exclusively by Lindt and Godiva. I am a vegetarian who eats mostly organic. His dad doesn't have even a quiver of cravings for that lovely dessert food group. We keep lots of healthy snacks and fresh foods in the house and he's grown to be a kid who adores chick peas and spinach and lentils and tofu.
The thing is, he has a sweet tooth. Or if it were my husband writing this, we'd say he has my sweet tooth. Which essentially means it is ENORMOUS.
He could eat candy 24-7. It doesn't dampen his appreciation for brussels sprouts cooked in garlic, but if given the choice he'll go for the chocolate box every time. He asks for a sugary treat a gazillion times a day. He dips into my stash. He is a veritable connoisseur
And so I am faced with a real quandary. His mother writes a chocolate blog and nibbles on dark chocolate while I am making him breakfast. (I can see the finger waggling from the judgey mcjudgersons in unison).
Do I become one of those parents who is all "do as I say not as I do"?
Do I stop eating chocolate to set a good example? Um, ya, like I could ever stick to that resolution.
So I've done the only selfless (heh) thing I could think of and I took all chocolate products out of the house. Every single one was packed up and toted away. Toted away to my office. Where, incidentally, I have just become the most popular person in the building.
The first day sans chocolate met with the lip. You know the lip. The lip all cute kids have perfected. The big pouty lip that turns under at the exact moment that the eyes widen and look up with the most tragic attempt at a plea.
But there is an outside chance he might not actually be my child after all. Because by day two he was happily eating clementines instead of chocolate orange slices and carrot sticks instead of candy canes.
And best of all, apparently there is a logical explanation for his superior will power. He's pretty sure it's because the tooth fairy likely took his sweet tooth away when it wiggled out a few weeks ago.