“It’s great that you’re doing more than one hobby a week–it means it’s a lifestyle,” – Kimberly Manley
When I was growing up, my mom told me I was allergic to chocolate–okay, not necessarily chocolate–but caffeine. I spent birthday parties on the sidelines with the gold Diet Coke can, as opposed to the red regular Coke can. I sat on the sidelines, desperately, as children dove into ice cream cakes that had chocolate crumbles, and I indulged in Swedish Fish–instead of Hershey bars. Even still, I watched Willy Wonka religiously, dreaming that I might, one day, swim, like Augustus in a pool of delicious melted chocolate.
By the time I was 10, I had gone through my fair share of red bumpy breakouts from cheating on my caffeine allergy. I was concerned that I’d never be able to indulge in the sweet satisfaction of a Snickers–but as I now understand, we can outgrow our childhood allergies–and somehow and some way I broke free from my sad, unsweetened childhood, and right into a sweet lifelong addiction–of chocolate.
Someone once asked me if there was a type of chocolate I didn’t like–and I said, “Are you crazy? I don’t discriminate against chocolate. That would be silly. You can set me up on a blind date with whichever, and I’ll be quite content. Add peanut butter to any of it–and I’ll be in heaven.”
It’s amazing that I reached the age of 24, without ever having made chocolate myself. Post half-marathon 2012, my friends all came over, melted chocolate and covered an assortment of goodies for me as a treat for completing my half-marathon–as well as for having gone three months without chocolate to aid in my training. While they took care of the chocolateering, I went off and bought everyone coffee. I’m not much of a baker, so I left it to my friends, who seemed much more capable of not burning down the house.
But then, as the hobby year continued, I decided it was time I learned to make chocolate–besides I had learned to brew beer this year–and I don’t even drink…so it was probably time I learned the process of chocolate-making. A couple months back, my co-worker sent me a link to a New York Times article that featured a chocolate shop in the Lower East Side. I forwarded the piece along to my other co-workers, and we planned to organize a time to visit.
But on a rainy day in New York City, I had no other choice but to dig into my emails of hobby suggestions, for something fun to do–regardless of already having two other hobbies scheduled for the week.
A good friend had asked me if I wanted to hang out and told me she was really excited for whatever adventure we found!
Originally, I had planned to just pick out a museum or a movie, but my insides growled at me, and my heart seemed to be trying to make out words between each beat. “Don’t be ridiculous-beat-Libby. You know you’d rather-beat-try something new-beat-than-beat-go-beat-back-beat-to-beat-the MOMA.” And my heart was right–I’d rather try something new than see the same exhibits I’d seen before, so I visited the chocolate shop’s website, listed in the article, and booked a lesson for two. (Don’t worry my co-worker friends–I am still in to return and make more chocolate!!!)
By 3:45pm, on a rainy Sunday afternoon, my friend and I found ourselves hands deep in melted chocolate. I could smell the sweet scents of white chocolate, milk chocolate, and dark chocolate all around us. As Aditi Malhotra, our knowledgeable instructor, and the owner of Tache Chocolate, took us on a quick tour of her own Chocolate Factory, she showed us one of the machines that continues to produce melted chocolate all day and night long, I could feel my taste-buds jumping. Suddenly, my dreams of swimming in a pool of chocolate seemed more realistic.
We then started making everything from chocolate covered Rice Krispy bundles to sparkling milk chocolate sea shells.
“If I don’t walk out of here with chocolate all over my face, I want my money back,” I joked. But not before long I had chocolate smudges on my hands, my arms, and even a tiny part of my sweater. –And at the end of the day, I had a pound of chocolate to take home–and plenty of new chocolate loving friends.
And while I’m not quite sure that I am ready to open my own chocolate business yet, I am pretty sure it’s now officially the time that I can promote my project as a lifestyle–rather than just a project.
And that’s what I call a sweet, sweet success.