Juliette et Chocolate
A cold February winter afternoon, a rich cup of hot chocolate, 70% pure like all respectable chocolate should be, and good company made for a nice afternoon today.
How have I not known about this place before? And now, how can I have hot chocolate anywhere else? Certaintly the brown water at Tim Horton’s will no longer suffice. The traditional grandma’s style chocolate in front of me was thick and beautiful, and enough of it to make for a full meal in itself. It was probably wise we didn’t also order the chocolate fondue to snack on along with it, as tempting as it was. Next time, mon chéri.
It’s always good to catch up with old friends, although at times errily reminiscent of that line from Before Sunset:
It’s funny. Every single of my ex’s—they’re now married. Men go out with me, we break up, and then they get married. And later they call me to thank me for teaching them what love is and that I taught them to care and respect women. I want to kill them!
But it turned out just to be one of those things lost in translation, across languages and cultures both. It’s unavoidable at times. (There was also no appropriate translation for how rich the drink was.) Natsukashikatta ne! I had forgotten how fun it is to have loud inappropriate conversations in public places, hoping nobody around happens to understand the language.
