OK, it's not evil, but I'm one of those people who doesn't much care for the stuff. I don't dislike it -- why, I ate a Halloween-sized Butterfinger and Snickers at the office today, and loved it -- but if given the opportunity, I'll have whatever dessert is not the chocolate one. Yes, this has made me a social outcast, and the object of pity among many, but I have found my soulmate: Michele Humes. Excerpt:
Now, I don't dislike chocolate, per se--at least not milk chocolate--but I never seek it out. I can't recall ever eating my way through two or three courses and thinking, "Well, wouldn't something dense, dark, and fatty just hit the spot!" I have thought, in those moments, of a brisk sorbet; of rhubarb compote on cool, thick yogurt; of shattering a burnt sugar top to get at a grapefruit tart--but of chocolate mousse, no, never.
Tell it, baby. Screw you, chocolate, you Branson, Missouri of desserts, you desperate milquetoast Kenny G. crowd-pleaser. You know what? You are so over. La Dolce Michele writes:
On menus across the country, and to my selfish glee, the chocolate dessert is fast becoming the token item--so at Seattle's Spring Hill, a scoop of chocolate-banana ice cream is the lone concession to the chocoholic, and the clear subordinate to a buttermilk panna cotta with huckleberries and a balsamic-drizzled plum crostada. More plums at Chicago's Mado, where a stone fruit and pistachio crisp is dolloped with tangy crème fraîche. And in New York City, Locanda Verde's sundae-for-two, assembled from rhubarb sorbet, lemon biscotti and fresh berries, is the very antithesis of hot fudge.
Go read more of the lovely and exceedingly intelligent Michele's culinary advice at her blog. Michele, ma belle, since you live in Brooklyn, I want to encourage you to hie thee to Sweet Melissa's on Court Street and try the chevre cheesecake.
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It's all a matter of whether chocolate is one of your "trigger foods".
I've got the Big D Number 2, and from what I have been able to determine, I'm able to eat Hershey-bar sized servings once in a while with no ill effects.
I think I probably have the same trigger foods you do. ;-) My point was that if I tell people I don't want any chocolate because I don't like it, I tend to get an argument from people incredulous that *anyone* could possibly not care for chocolate. (Same thing happens when I tell people I don't like watermelon.) But when I tell people I don't want any chocolate because I'm diabetic, they accept that and don't argue with me.
It's as much about avoiding the argument as it is about avoiding the chocolate. ;-)
Cheap chocolate (hersey's, nestle, etc.) makes my tounge swell up, but real cacao, dark yummy chocolate makes my heart sing. But I'm a weirdo who doesn't like sweet as much as bitter. mmmmm
My mother is always reminding me that her father died of a massive heart attack when she was 14. (Consequently, I missed meeting him by at least ten years). I have endeavored to reassure her that I eat dark chocolate every day to make sure that I do not suffer a similar fate. So far, its working. Also, I love chocolate, and as I have gotten older, I find my taste going less for milk chocolate and more for dark chocolate, the kind that is better for me. Rod probably has a different metabolism, and his body needs a different mix of nutrients. God gave each of us taste buds so that we would know what is good for us. Mine have never steered me wrong.
My taste runs like Rod's. But I was mean to my little sister, the one chocolate lover in a vanilla-loving family. As revenge, I was given a husband and FIVE (out of five) chocoholic children, all of whom look with pity and disbelief at me when I order dessert in a restaurant. This situation, however, does have one blessing. I buy only chocolate ice cream (or coffee, which I also dislike). Thus, when I am tempted to open the freezer and snitch, I take a look at their ice cream, turn my nose up, and close the door.
My wife loves chocolate and fresh strawberries. One summer night years ago, we were on the back porch and she was eating strawberries dipped in chocolate. She accidentally dropped a bit of chocolate and strawberry down her tank top and ... Nine months later our son Lucas was born.
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