Tuesday, February 22, 2011

An Ode

You've heard it before; I know I'm not the first.

Everyone wants to take a bite out of you. You're coveted around the world, and seem to be in many places at the same time. In several countries, you appear rather brittle, dry, easily shattered. It's your fragile side, I believe, that makes you act this way. You hide your deep chocolate undertones, preferring to give them all a few fleeting tastes of long-lost chips.

I don't very much enjoy you in those places. If I were to meet you in one single place in the world, it would be in my kitchen. I'm more of the intimate, almost timid kind, you see. I'd rather we kept our dealings to ourselves--nobody else has to know about us. I know you probably have this type of arrangement with many others, but I don't mind: I can share at times.




Just promise me one thing: when we do meet, I want you to be all I've ever wanted you to be. I want to feel your warmth, your friendliness. I like to see the real you, multifaceted, always hiding something. From the outside, you're smooth or bumpy, I don't really have a preference this time around. You know best. I'm sure you remember I enjoy how diaphanous you are, letting your true self show through. Beneath the paleness lies a treasure trove of suave boldness, unassuming yet noble: your dark side.

Constantly conflicting deep inside yourself; bittersweet chocolate tries to take the stage, but must be resigned to sharing the spotlight with the brown sugar comfort of hardly-baked dough. That is what I like the most. You yield easily, putting up a false fight with a tiny crunch on your outside. Softness follows, a comforting texture with an array of tastes. In one bite, sweetness takes over, only to be debased by the power of a good chocolate chunk in the next bite. By chance, I come across the perfect mouthful: dough and chocolate come together in a perfect alliance, the marriage dreams are made of.

Why do you always leave so soon, though? Is it something I did, something I said? You know I'm faithful, but I can only wish there were several of you. As strong as your flavor explosion may be, it remains evanescent. I can't seem to recapture our moment once you've departed. 

Your gracefulness, your charm, your perfect balance of power and abandonment...chocolate chip cookie, if I were a French king, you would be my favorite.

(PS: I found a new way to make you which is really pretty awesome. Lips sealed, though. Until next time, at least.)
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10 comments:

Eleni said...

It's unfair to tempt us! Those look sooo good! It reminds me, I had better finish off the cookie dough remaining in my fridge...

Mary Bergfeld said...

You are a temptress and a cruel one at that :-). I loved this post. I hope you have a great day. Blessings...Mary

Inigo said...

What a lovely and delicious way to present this delight--in an ode.Maybe it's your Latin teacher you wrote about, Mrs. Newman, who introduced you to odes. My favorites, by far, are Pablo Neruda's Odas Elementales. I know he has an Ode to Salt, Ode to Watermelon, Ode to Tomato. My favorite, though, is Ode to My Socks. I found it on line here
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-my-socks/
Keep up the good work. Always a pleasure to read.

Anonymous said...

Those cookies look sooo delicious! Mmmm... :)

Barbara said...

Ain't it the truth?
Can hardly wait for your new way to make everyone's favorite treat!!

cocoa and coconut said...

Hahaha great post and very true about how we all feel towards cookies. Looking forward to seeing how you make them..

Reeni said...

You are such a teaser! Can't wait to see what you came up with. This post is sooooo cute!

grace said...

butter, sugar, chocolate--any combination in cookie form is always welcome.

Anonymous said...

I love the open letter to the world's greatest thing. :) I hope he know how much he's adored.

Kerstin said...

Mmm, there's nothing better than a warm CCC straight from the oven with a big glass of milk! Love your nail polish too!