Confessions of a Chocoholic

I have vague memories of eating Hershey’s Kisses under the dining room table.  I recall the pile of wrappers accumulating around me, and watching peoples’ legs as they unknowingly passed me by.  Little did they know, they were walking past a crime scene. 


To this day, during the holiday season, Hershey’s Kisses sit nested on the kitchen countertop in a Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer-shaped box, circa 1980.  I’d abducted Rudolph for my own private tasting and finished its entire contents below adult radar. 


Even then, I knew I had possible dependency problem on chocolate.  And, although nothing can compare to a fine piece of well-made chocolate, Hershey still holds a fond place in my heart.


I know it may not be vogue and I know that it’s a waxy, watered down, illegitimate child of the chocolate world.  But, its formula contains memories and childhood and comfort.  I like Hershey’s.  That’s my first Culinary Confession. 


Since culinary school and joining a community of real “foodies,” I feel the need to get these things off my chest.  While I’m purging, here are some others…


–       I don’t like sushi. (I KNOW! I’m a terrible person because haven’t even tried many varieties and the first place I tried it was at a baseball stadium.  I even lived in an apartment adjoining to an acclaimed sushi restaurant.  I could be swayed. Please, someone sway me so I don’t have this weighing on my foodie conscience!) 

–       I once fed a former boyfriend raw chicken and wouldn’t admit that it wasn’t cooked.  (At this point in my culinary endeavors I couldn’t tell if it was done unless I sliced through the breast and it was already looking like a cadaver.  Clearly, there was simply a naturally pink hue to that particular chicken!)  

–       Paula Deen has the best bread pudding recipe in the industry.  No joke.

–       I love Martha Stewart.  She emulates perfection (minus, of course, the jail time).   In her high school yearbook, by her name and picture, it read, “I do what I please. I do it with ease.”  How can you not have some respect for that combination of competency and confidence?

–       I once tried to eyeball ounces of chocolate when making hot cocoa and ended up making chocolate, booze-infused sludge.  Clearly, there IS such a thing as too much chocolate. Lesson learned.

–       Sometimes, I am scared of “culinary toys,” as opposed to “baking toys.”  Ovens are my friends…Deep Fryers…not as much.  (Although, the other day at work The Fryer and I said, “hello,” over doughnuts AND The Steamer and I introduced ourselves).   I’m working on being open to more diverse relationships. 

–       I believe that (in moderation!) hydrogenated oils can be our allies.   Nothing can make a pie dough flakier than a dollop of shortening.

–       I grew up eating chocolate chip cookies made with margarine, rather than butter. Consequently, when being completely un-objective, I think they taste better. 



WHEW! I feel good, if not a bit vulnerable.  I you now consider me to be unrefined, unsophisticated or savage in someway…good riddance.   I will eat my Hershey Bar proudly…and under the table.



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3 responses to “Confessions of a Chocoholic

  1. Lauren

    Knowing most of these things already… some were new information to me… I don’t judge. I like you just as you are.

    Hey, I have to admit I like those Pillsbury Crescent Rolls even to this day because my mom used to make them all the time. I don’t care if they weren’t hand crafted. Their overly buttery taste is perfect to me.

    Also, Oreos… that’s all I will say.

  2. Jules

    This entry opened with my favorite Marissa story ever. Eating Hershey kisses under the table…. I can picture it all. You, as a small person, the table itself, and the Rudolph box. I do hope Rudolph will make an appearance at the new house.

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