We're All Humans, Aren't We?

So creamy, so rich, so succulent.

No, I’m not talking about the latest episode of Lost, although that’s a pretty good show. I’m talking about a dessert I had a couple of days ago. Thursday night, Amanda and I went downtown to visit Mary, a friend of ours. She’s been holed up in the city doing a semester internship program. After a few miscues, we finally found her apartment and ate dinner with her at Bennigan’s. It was fun and relaxing. It was great to catch up with her and hear what she’s been up to.

After dinner, we headed back to her place and met up with Gen, another girl that we knew from Trinity. We hopped on the Green Line El and then transferred over to the Blue Line up to Damen Ave. After getting off, we walked about three or four blocks north from the station. All of this work was to get us to a place called Hot Chocolate.

Upon walking in, I immediately felt like a poseur. The lights were dimmed low, the atmosphere low-key. It felt like an upscale coffeehouse. I half-expected a stage tucked away in the corner with a waify girl playing the guitar. We were approached by a man who was casually dressed in khakis and a sweater. “Four?”

Agreeing with his number, he took us to a table and we were handed menus. One side was for dinners, the other dessert. Seeing as we just ate dinner, we flipped the menu to the appropriate side. We were informed that the dishes were shareable, so we decided to split plates. Amanda and Mary got a lemon flavored conocotion while Gen and I decided to go with what the menu called “Milk Chocolate.”

We waited for our dishes and drank our waters while drinking in the atmosphere as well. Then finally our plates arrived. They looked small. Well, ours wasn’t too bad, but Amanda and Mary’s looked really small. Shrugging our shoulders, we all picked up the heavy forks and took our first bites.

Oh. My. Gooooodness.

Imagine a square that’s composed of half chocolate cake and half chocolate mousse with a hole in it filled with liquid chocolate for dipping and that was our dessert. A ten-dollar plate never tasted sweeter. As most of you know, I’m a man with a hearty appetite, but even I was beyond satisfied with just half the dish. It was that heavy and sweet.

BUT, we weren’t done yet. We had to try something else. We were in an adventurous mood. Let’s go with something drinkable this time. Gen decided on hot chocolate. (Kind of apropos, considering the name of the place.) Mary went with a vanilla shake while Amanda and I decided on splitting a strawberry banana shake.

The drinks were so delicious. Gen couldn’t finish hers which was understandable when you consider the hot chocolate was essentially melted milk chocolate. And I struggled to drink the rest of the shake. We were beyond satisfied; we were satiated. Upon the arrival of the bill, we paid it and stumbled outside. We walked drunkenly back to the station, our bellies full of sweet, decadent, filling desserts. Gen struggled to stay awake and coherent with all the chocolate coursing through her veins.

We managed to locate the right trains and took them home, saying our farewells on the Orange Line. I now realize that every candy bar I eat will be compared to that rich dessert I ate with my friends that fateful evening.

So creamy, so rich, so succulent.