Mini-post

Goodness me it seems to be yet another time when I do want and need (!) to share my newly-acquired impression over the chocolate with you. I know, I know, given my last few posts (this one for instance) that were so massively engaged with chocolate or things chocolate-related, I might really have gone into trouble to employ diversity here. However, I am under the impression, you might want to listen to my rambles. (Of course that's chiefly my hope.)

Friends, here is the situation. I granted myself with a luxury of visiting another location of Puccini Bomboni (Singel 154) and with that, invested a small fortune into an assortment of three bonbons. Among which was aniseed one. And which is why I’m bold enough to bore you with yet another train of words on relatively the same topic within last weeks. I am sorry. But you might really want to hear this, I hasten to add.

Aniseed praline (bonbon). In my imagination, the unknown, enigmatic and capturing is bestowed with aroma as such of the aniseed, also, far countries and continents where miracles of chocolate transform tears into smiles, pain into pleasure, fears into joy. Aniseed flavour is not a convenient spice to everybody’s liking. Indeed, it is a way too persistent and dominating, and seemingly forces chocolate to succumb to a supporting role in this duo. But then, it is only seemingly so. As the first wave of aniseed flavour whooshes away and subsides, it is only a matter of a second (or a few) whence the refined chocolate texture unfolds itself onto your palate and ever so gently wraps you up in a silky blanket of pleasure. You can’t resist it. The only thing you want now is to keep the moment.

Aniseed praline. A purveyor of comfort and idleness. Especially on a chilly, rainy day like today, September 2, 2008. In Amsterdam.

Now, consider me a disbalanced individual with a perverse fixation on chocolate. Which, in fact, is heartbreakingly true.

That was a mini-post, you understand.