Really, it’s all just a matter of coming Bach to basics. You know, like the garlic ice cream they sell in Gilroy.
In the Happy Father’s Day department, one will note that I seem not to have been the only one with the idea: there was only one left in the whole store Friday. I snatched it. Mine. And then, briefly, his. (He let me taste some, but the thing disappeared surprisingly fast when I walked back out of the room.)
For the man who lived in France for two years on a mission for the Mormon Church, came home, and taught me what True Chocolate was supposed to be like, lifting me from my Hershey wilderness into true European dark bliss. And now you know why I really married him. Heh.
Vosge’s Haut.Chocolat to celebrate the day. What could be more manly than an applewood-smoked bacon chocolate bar?