unidentified delights

The Redhead's mom is a sweet, intelligent woman who I enjoy visiting with, especially because the two of us become a unified force in ganging up on the Redhead when the three of us are in close proximity.

She's also funny, because she does not believe that the Redhead checks his mail at his apartment, so she sends gifts and birthday cards to him at my address. I think his aunt and grandmother have the same idea.

But! I received my own little joyous surprise last week, in honor of my own birthday. It was a lovely orange box of chocolates, wrapped up in a giant orange ribbon (did I mention she taught me how to tie gift bows with real ribbons?) and full of interesting sweets.

Tangent: boxes of chocolate are great because I can nurse them in my own anal-retentive, OCD-kind of way, allowing myself only one delectable treat per day for a month of tastiness. Who can eat an entire chocolate bar in one sitting? They are only good for fondue.

Back to the story: Some boxes of chocolates have a map to help you steer of chocolate-covered cherries and others you wish to avoid, but without reference material you just have to take your chances.

Years ago Mz. Loh gave me food-garnishing advice she may have learned from the CIA: it's good to decorate your food with stuff that offers the eater a clue to the contents, like a nut on a rum ball or other nutty cookies, or sprigs of mint on ... something minty.

But that rule did not prepare me for the first chocolate I tried, which was topped with a white crystalline substance I assumed was raw sugar. It turned out to be salt! It tasted salty. The filling was unclear.

Then I saw a post on this blog (wish it had permalink features) about burnt caramel truffles with Hawaiian sea salt and feel like I've gained some insight. (Be sure to read the post before that one, about the chocolate bacon bars at Ma Petite Shoe, Baltimore's shoe and chocolate store).

It took me a little while to support the concept of chocolate-covered savory things (okay, the time it took to devour my first chocolate-covered pretzel). And I completely agree with the explanation on the bacon bar page that pancake syrup on pork products (I prefer sausage) is tasty. But this is not a universal endorsement: I'm not a big fan of Monte Cristo sandwiches and for political reasons I refuse to try the pancake sandwich at the fast-food-place-that-is-not-to-be-named-or-linked-to.

But who knows? I'm only halfway through the box of deliciousness. Perhaps there's a Chorizo one in there somewhere.