I gave up sugar a few weeks ago, after realizing it was the basis of much of what I was eating. A hot chocolate (or 2) here, some chocolate sorbet there, the occasional poptart, pumpkin bread with chocolate chips, chocolate hazelnut biscotti—yes, there was definite theme going on. The detox was brutal but now I’m finding I don’t miss it.
But, a few days ago, I fell back under its spell. I was browsing etsy.com and came across homemade chocolate marshmallows. The photo was riveting. While sitting at my computer, I kept going back to the page to read more, to gaze longingly, to yearn for something soft and sweet. It became a twitter conversation for much of the evening—should I, shouldn’t I? What kind of chocolate people like best. Giving in to temptation.
Finally, I hit the purchase button, feeling good about supporting a local Brooklyn business, and buying something homemade and all natural. If I was falling off the wagon, it wasn’t for yodels or ring dings, but in support of someone’s culinary dream.
The marshmallows cost $6 for 12. Not unreasonable. The shipping was another $6.95 which brought each piece to more than a buck. I thought twice for a moment but decided to go for it.
The box arrived yesterday. They were much smaller than I imagined. Think regular marshmallow size with squared off corners. The photo above made them seem almost cake-like. Instead of diving in right away, we decided to save them for the GLEE finale so they sat, wrapped neatly in cellophane for much of the night. Half way through the show, we opened the package and gingerly handed them out. My daughter was in love. My son took one bite and handed it back. I slowly savored mine, waiting for the expensive chocolate to glide over my tongue, sure the subtle sweetness that would lure me back into my rampant sugar days.
Suprisingly, amazingly, shockingly that’s not what happened.
It was fine. Light but rich, sweet but subtle, soft and firm at the same time. One was enough. They’re still sitting on the table and I have no desire to try another.
I dipped my toe back into the sugar pool and survived. No sugar apparently is my new sugar.
