I only allow those who I deem worthy to share in my favourite chocolate; your heart is still being weighed

I can tell you about how I first tasted this chocolate
(fine & raw’s cacao + coconut chunky)
at the Brooklyn Flea and it was January and snowing
and my fingers were burning from the cold as I walked from the subway station
and inside the market I bought a wrist cuff made from a vinyl record
and a chopping board made from walnut, cherry and mahogany
and at the food hall I ate the best biscuit I’ve ever tasted
(biscuit as in Southern, rather than a cookie;
this is terribly confusing for non-Americans)
and I drank a thick cinnamon hot chocolate
from a Mexican hot chocolate stall
and on the way out I slipped a small sample of chocolate
into my mouth as I walked past the fine & raw stand
and my tongue insisted that my hand clutch at my chest
because it didn’t know how to process all the feelings

but that doesn’t mean I’ll offer you some

I will tell you about the Thai restaurant in Sydney that offers for dessert
a mango with sticky rice pudding that makes me slap
the palm of my hand against the table top with each mouthful
and the tables all wobble a little so it can alarm those nearby
and the restaurant is always humming with people
so no one can hear my repeated moans
as I take another piece of mango in

but I probably would still hold back
not even as I press the name of the restaurant into your hand

we may lie in bed ruined with pleasure
and I will tell you about the restaurant in a small piazza
in Vicenza (and I’ll try not to sound like a pretentious twat)
and how they served a chicken dish with gorgonzola and truffles
that I had three times and I can’t describe any of the flavours
just how my entire body sang gospel for that dish
and they made an amazing lemon sorbet too
but that’s a story for another day

and even though you delight me
I still mightn’t offer you some

we will lick each other’s bodies
and play with our food inappropriately
and I might tell you about the best carpaccio in New York
and I might tell you about the best massaman in Melbourne
and I might tell you about the fried okra in Greensville, North Carolina
and I might ask you “cake or death” just to check
if our cultural references are the same (and if you’re worth it)
and while I can’t tell you what you would need to do
to be worthy of one small piece of my favourite chocolate
I would strongly suggest you keep up the slow burn

Header photograph © Olivier Schopfer.