On this rainy late afternoon Saturday, I found myself sitting in the Formosa Tea House reading Almost French (subtitled “Love and a new life in Paris”), and this passage made me lust (yes, lust) for a cup of hot chocolate:
At Frédéric’s insistence we order hot chocolate — the speciality of the maison, he promises. It arrives in two steaming white jugs and you can tell just from the smell that this is an intense brew made with cream and couverture chocolate. We fill our cups. The liquid pours slowly like an oil slick of dark molten mousse.
The closest I have ever come to reaching this height of chocolate ecstasy was at Le Relais de la Tour in Capdenac le Haut; here is the evidence:
How did I choose to sate my lust today? Well, Timothy’s was closed, it was too rainy to head to Mavor’s, so I had to settle for Tim Hortons. Yes, I realize I am an idiot. I wanted a molten oil slick of pleasure and instead I got a soupy paper cup of tepid Quik. What was I thinking?
Couverture, just in case you were wondering, is “a term used for cocoa butter rich chocolates of the highest quality.” (thanks to Wikipedia for that).
This brings another episode of my Europhilia to a close. Sorry for the interruption.