Step One: Obtain Chocolate

By Toni Poppe

(Toni claims she doesn't like to cook, but I have yet to eat a meal she's prepared that illustrates this in any way. Sometimes I just don't understand why anyone wouldn't love to cook. In the same way, Toni doesn't understand why everyone doesn't find themselves giddy over things like grammar rules and finding fallacies in argument. Often this leads to the two of us correcting each other: "Toni, that is not a shiffonade." Or "Heather, that's not how you spell 'chiffonade.'" You might think we don't get each other. Couldn't be further from the truth.)

So the thing with me and cooking is that I'm not really a fan. I have no idea what I'm doing on this food blog, but I love Heather and would do anything for her. The adage is "write what you know", not "write what you know the bare minimum about". Unlike Heather and Brittaney, I do not lust after cookware, nor do I find cooking to be a pleasant little challenge between the ingredients, appliances and myself.

When I cook, it's more like controlled chaos. Anyone who's ever tried to carry a conversation, or heaven forbid, lend a hand will soon learn that it's best to let my little whirly dervish pass while hiding safely in the confines of a nearby closet or crawlspace. My husband goes to school most nights, and I miss having him home in the evenings. But honestly, it's probably better for our marriage that he's not there to witness most of the meal preparation. I don't even let the dog in while I'm cooking.

The problem is, I'm not what corporate America would call a "big picture" person. I admire those with vision, but I just don't have a lot of my own. As a kid, I never had an imaginary friend and I hated when adults asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. To me, the more pressing question was "How do you navigate the choppy waters of the 4th grade social scene while simultaneously annoying the hell out of your older brother?" I learned early that the devil is in the details, and as any Catholic school girl might tell you, he is scary and out to get you. So I focused my energies on all of the tiny things that go into being perfect. Bobbed hair with bangs: check. Mostly A's and B's to be smart, but not too smart: check. These have added up to one sentence on my resume: "Organized and efficient, ensuring project success from conceptualization to evaluation."

Great, but cooking requires a set of bifocals that I'm still learning how to use. All of the good cooks I know say that it's all about making everything come out right at the right time. I'm usually so focused on going from step 1 to step 2 on the main dish that I completely forget the fact that I was supposed to make a side, or that I'm also supposed to be preparing something for step 63. As a result, I'm a big believer in one pot meals. This also speaks to my nature as an old person trapped inside a 27 year old's body. I'd really like nothing better than to sit down to a crockpot or cassarole meal; it's all so neat and organized in one dish. When I see my Mom-in-law or Auntie K whip up a 5 course something, or one of my girlfriends invent a recipe on the fly, all while enjoying a nice shot of tequila or some red wine, I am in awe of their powers. They have a vision for the meal and can see it through, when I'm more focused on what we're having for dessert or if the flatware is lined up properly.

It is in that spirit of one mindedness that I offer you a link to a recipe that will not do you wrong. I made this chocolate tart
last weekend, and as I sat with my friends devouring it, I smiled knowing that all of the little details came together this time. The chocolate didn't burn, the crust didn't crumble and the ginger on top was cut precisely and placed in a neat ring. I didn't make an appetizer, the main course, a side or a salad, but in my little corner
of the world, this was all I needed for the perfect meal.