Take all the chocolate coating and discard the rest
Reality is disgusting
Drown your mind and body in the eccentricities of indulgence
Restraint is the vocation of the miser
Why live a long life when you can live a tasty one?
Sweet Tooth
Mary Herdelin
What I’ve called love has Rotted my teeth, overbeaten my heart
Given me a sickeningly empty stomach
From the saccharine crumbs I binged
Leveraged always through metal claws love was conspicuous consumption turned hidden addiction
With wisdoms replacing sugar and cavities filled I savor bitter truths: Love is sweet
But don’t try to bottle, market, and sell
Rather temper, bake, and caramelize
Take the fruit of the earth and the milk of its creatures
Cool it down, make it solid, just to bite down.
expired. Eliana Burgin
stripped of a gossamer sweater i’ll bite off vertebrae, snapping the lines down the thoracic. all twelve pieces— it isn’t easy to want more — snaking along until the sacrum and coccyx, chocolate bars melted together, made vulnerable by crooked posture and an unwieldiness to comfort.
starting at my fingertips, you could pop off every piece, break every bone, letting the marrow rest on your tongue, bitter and dark.
beneath these layers, scratchy skin to secret these broken squares of human, in the wake of fluorescents, you’ll chose the sweets appearing most whole and the pressure from raspberry filling begs to burst from my skull, a jawbreaker to crush all your baby teeth, crumbling on first taste, until the jelly comes rushing out through every crevice a bloodbath— a self inflicted massacre the red stains on my fingertips and nails bitten to a dull ache are nothing more than causal exertion: i long to be good enough to do what i love
Toothache
Colby Johnson
A sculpture garden hidden from sun, Figures carved painfully into being From slabs of marbled chocolate (I wonder if they’re hollow too?)
There’s one sculpture, A child, cross-legged under a tree (Does it kind of look like me?) Eyes closed, napping in the shade, So unaware.
Dragonflies like to land on the straps of his overalls, (Why am I hungry?)
Ineffective guardians. They’re beautiful as they fly away.
Why did it taste so sweet
If it wasn’t meant to be eaten?
(I thought the dragonflies would land on me after)
(Surely they see it smeared all over my cheeks)
Westward
The Sun will never reach everything. How harshly it nourishes the trees who in their turn create Darkness.
A perfect garden, A permanent feast, Life and goodness flowing into both horizons, but what you wanted most was dead.
plucked from the tree, shriveling in the Sun.
Having tasted the world in its entire, You spit it out — finding it bitter and unformed.
from the table stretching into eternity, leaving a split open, steaming-dead cacao pod in its cen-
Another garden, Finally of your own creation.
During a picnic in the shade, You feed her chocolate, Wondering if this too, comes from the Sun —The smile on her face, The fruit in your garden, Your home and its beams— Or if you made something sweeter than what was given to
this doorway is battered. unwilling conduit of all the ways we make ourselves legitimate; the locking, leaning, slamming, pounding. it began in the bones, the termites chewing at our beams. rot spreads because it likes to bite, because we like to hurt. how could a house live when its organs punish each other, how does it live when it’s no longer a home but a catacomb? we were meant to freshen this place but our lungs are blackening. it smells like cocoa in the kitchen. you dump the brown powder into a pot of milk and let it simmer on the stove. the scent drifts as far as it can, straining to mask the smell of dying wood. termites teeming under the paint, teeming under our skin. you add a spoonful of sugar. i’ve always thought that rot smells sweet. the disrepair, the hollow-boned home— it smells like cocoa.
To My Mother’s Sister Savannah Vonesh
You floated long before you had wings, and I spent so long watching your feathers sprout, learning to run as you started to fall up. Back when I couldn’t quite form the words “hot socolate”, when your dog’s ears felt like the finest velvet, when you said you could stay forever in my eyes, “deep pools of chocolate”, were my eyes already turning grey from the distance? As you stumbled, and I ran, away from the chance of understanding you more than just incense and sweaters, understanding your parties, your pinches, passions, and how much you liked whiskey, I wish I’d let you stay reflected in my saccharine pools. Maybe you’d be happier there, sweetly held in my gaze, than light, free, and far away from me.
hollow wood
Ezra Perrine
Finny Roach
A Chocolate Love Story
Clara Oyanguren
School is the same as always: white floors, beige walls, green lockers that everyone leaves unlocked. Also, the same boring English class for the first period. As Mrs. Smith gives us our homework assignment, the sharp noise of the bell sounds, meaning it’s recess now—thank God. My stomach won’t stop screaming in retribution for skipping breakfast. Maybe I left something in my locker? I have a tendency for hoarding junk food and inhaling them just as fast, so it’s a toss up. I go to check.
I immediately wish that I was back in class. As soon as I’m in the hallway, some brown-haired guy is holding a speaker over his head playing “In Your Eyes” by Peter Gabriel like some John Cusack wanna-be. His friends are right behind him, each with individual letters cut out from construction paper spelling P-R-O-M-? They, and consequently everyone flooding the hall from class change, are staring at this poor girl wearing a cute brown sweater and white top with jeans.
“Val, will you go to Prom with me?” I hear him ask. Gross. I feel bad for this girl; content to be unknown in this dull place until she was so abruptly singled out. I walk away before I can hear her response.
Finally, I make it to my locker. When I open the door, something falls past my face and clatters to the ground. I look down and see... Chocolate? What’s more is that it appears to be the small, square Milk-Hershey kind. But why the Hell is there a piece of chocolate in my locker? Did I put that there? Was it from class? With another rumble from my stomach, I decide that I actually don’t care. It is free chocolate, and I want it.
I unwrap the candy, mouth watering. It’s a little warm from sitting in my locker, but that doesn’t bother me as much as hunger. Rich flavors burst all over my tongue from the first bite and my heart swells. It tastes like joy. The perfect treat.
As I move to dispose of the balled-up wrapper, I notice a flash of pink on the brown that is Hershey’s staple. I slowly smooth out the wrinkles, revealing a crumbled-up, almost illegible P in pink glitter ink. Huh. Interesting choice. Pink is a little cringey, but I sort of like it. I swear if someone’s trying something, I’m going to kill them.
The next day is the same routine. I put on the same type of make-up, go to the same classes, and talk to the same people. After each class, I curiously check my locker. It’s not until lunch that I notice it. I open it again before I give up for the day and see it fall, the same kind of milk chocolate Hershey. I quickly eat it, like I need it to survive. I go straight to the bottom of the wrapper. Again, another letter, now an R. This time it’s dark blue ink. I can’t figure out who’s doing this. Seriously, man, who is it? What’s with the colors, anyway? I mean, they are pretty, but I just want to know what they mean.
The next day is the same thing. I wait till lunch to open my locker and check. Like clockwork— it’s there. I catch it before it falls; I’m trying to challenge myself. Today, it is one of those purplewrapped, dark chocolate Hershey kisses. Ok, respectable range. I eat it, of course. The bitter taste reminds me of black coffee, making me spit it out. I don’t even drink coffee in the morning. I look straight at the bottom; It’s an O in purple glittery ink. Oh God.
The next day is the same thing. At exactly 12:30, I go to my locker and see what my secret admirer left me. It’s Mint chocolate this time. Which is fitting since the word at the bottom is M with the same handwriting in bright glitter green. Great. You see where this is going, right?
The next day is the same thing. I check again at 12:30. This time, a whole Tuberlone bar. Huh, they’re spending money on this. I don’t have to look for a letter this time. It’s staring at me conveniently in the face. A big, fat, glittery question mark.
I put all the wrappers together - I kept them in my locker. I turn around, and I see them. Of course. Everything makes sense now. That’s why I was getting chocolates. They knew I hated public proposals. Surprising that they remembered, given it was a throwaway comment. As I piece everything together I hear them say:
“So, Claire, what do you say? Will you go to prom with me?”
My beating heart and fluttering stomach give me no choice but to say:
“Only if you buy me more chocolate.”
Cookies, Culture, and Individual Identity:
How Our Food Choices Illuminate Broader Truths
Madeline Richard
According to Nestle, “every American has a chocolate chip cookie memory. The scene of children coming home from school to the scent of fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies wafting from the oven is as ubiquitous as the chocolate chip cookie itself.” This comment is sweet, but easy to dismiss as a mere marketing technique; after all, we’re polarized politically, grapple with environmental issues, and face an uncertain global future. In the midst of these problems, shouldn’t baking be buried within our minds, leaving space for more important issues? This question isn’t easy. While it’s crucial to address the immediate and systemic crises surrounding us, we also need to look beyond our stagnant definition of “important.” Chocolate chip cookies might seem simple – an activity for a winter afternoon or bake sale treat – but they also play a powerful role in our cultural and individual narrative. Each recipe variation and bakery visit fits into a broader framework and allows us to explore our layered identities – our morality, our memories, our emotions, our relationships, and our cultural values.
There are conflicting stories about how chocolate chip cookies were invented. We commonly consider chocolate chip cookies to have been invented by Ruth Wakefield in the 1930s. She and her husband ran Massachusetts’ Toll House Restaurant, and allegedly, after running out of the nuts she’d needed for her cookie recipe, she substituted chopped Nestlé chocolate. Yet Stella Parks, a pastry chef and author of an American dessert cookbook, determined an 1877 recipe echoes our modern Toll House recipe. This finding suggests Nestlé’s corporate power, rather than chocolate chip cookies’ innate qualities, helped propel Wakefield’s recipe to stardom.
Geopolitical factors – specifically World War Two – fueled chocolate chip cookies’ expansion. Nestlé’s campaign to get Americans to use chocolate to make cookies to send to troops had major moral and patriotic ties. The mass production of chocolate chip cookies began in the postwar period. Refrigerated cookie dough was first sold in the 1950s, and the 60s and 70s saw the birth of companies like Chips Ahoy, Famous Amos, Mrs. Fields, and David’s Cookies.
This background poses the question: how can our consumption of and attitude toward chocolate chip cookies reveal broader patterns? It’s clear that we collectively value cookies, but why is this so? It’s easiest to answer this on an individual level first. Our chocolate chip cookie choices might seem random, but they’re guided by many intangible factors – human connection, memory, emotion, and even morality – and can offer a lens into our unique identity.
Eating is a social act – according to neuroscientist Rachel Herz, we emulate the food choices of those we’re close to, like friends and family. This shows support for others, helping validate a relationship. This behavior is called mirroring, and it heightens when we’re trying to strengthen a connection or impress others.
Levain Bakery, originating in New York City, is a perfect example. Their chocolate chip cookies are often promoted as “the best cookies in all the world,” and many celebrities, including Oprah and Taylor Swift, have shared their love for the bakery. This social encouragement drives many of us to purchase Levain cookies, and in doing so, offers a window into our interiority and behavior.
Tangentially, our food choices convey our values to the
broader world. Confucius described this perfectly over a millennium ago and declared “the way you cut your meat reflects the way you live.” Likewise, many Enlightenment thinkers correlated vegetarianism with increased morality. It’s 2023, so these ideas might appear distant; however, they echo throughout our current day.
Our food preferences link to memory and emotion too. Herz explored this in her book “Why We Eat What We Eat,” writing “aromas and flavors awaken factors of our lives that might otherwise be forever forgotten.” When we first eat a food, the situation we’re in and the emotions we experience become tied to that food, meaning that food choices allow us to connect to our past.
Foods helps us relive treasured moments, and this association is particularly powerful for cookies. Like Nestlé implied, most of us first eat chocolate chip cookies in cozy childhood environments, when we typically feel nurtured, so returning to family cookie recipes offers a sense of solace and joy. Doing so even acts as a surrogate for those we love; it reminds us of our connection and the warm emotions we experienced, therefore catalyzing comfort.
This sense of stability reflects our emotional state. We’re more likely to reach for comfort foods – including cookies –when we’re overwhelmed. When we’re stressed, our brain’s prefrontal cortex, which controls decision-making, is particularly linked to regions that process pleasure, emotion, and taste; however, it’s less connected to areas that regulate self-control. This makes it more difficult to make a mindful choice, driving us to pick cookies over healthier options. Our food choices connect to emotion, and chocolate – a key ingredient in our beloved cookies – is especially powerful. It facilitates dopamine production, stimulating a pleasure and reward response, and even contains phenylethylamine, a chemical produced when we fall in love.
Though chocolate chip cookies can convey our individual background, they’re also a vehicle for our societal values. Foods are major cultural touchstones and reveal our collective values and traditions.
Socioeconomic structure also manifests in the cookie — 8 Levain cookies cost fifty dollars. The endlessly customizable nature of the cookie also creates room for a social hierarchy to manifest. In the words of John Michaud:
“the beauty of the chocolate-chip cookie – and no small part of its enduring popularity – is its fungibility. You can make it with shortening, margarine, or butter; you can make big cookies or small cookies; you can use pecans or walnuts or M. & M.’s or peanut butter; you can use more brown sugar or less; you can swap in corn syrup or molasses; add an extra egg or substitute water for milk; you can use luxury brands of sea salt and caramel and extremely expensive hand-made chocolate or the generic brands available in your local supermarket. It doesn’t matter. What comes out will still be recognizable as a chocolate-chip cookie and, most likely, it will taste good.”
The patriarchy also exists in the cookie. We often sentimentalize and feminize baking, associating it with phrases like “Grandma’s chocolate chip cookies” that echo throughout our vernacular. These patterns might seem small, but glancing
back at our history raises problems – these ideals infiltrate our political sphere. During Bill Clinton’s 1992 presidential campaign, Hillary Clinton expressed frustration with the public’s attitude toward her lifestyle. She faced criticism for working outside the home and retaliated by stating she “could have stayed home, baked cookies and had teas” if she had not had a career. This comment inflamed many Americans, and Family Circle harnessed this controversy by creating a cookie competition between aspiring First Ladies. Though Hillary won this competition with her chocolate chip cookies – and Bill won the election – the comment had an impact. You can’t evoke cookies and get away unscathed (and women should be thrilled to make them).
However, women’s personal attitudes towards cookies offer another lens into the patriarchy’s prevalence. Overall, women prefer sweeter foods than men – with almost a third of women favoring sweet flavors, versus an eighth of men – suggesting they’d reach for cookies more often than their male counterparts. However, while many women might love sweet snacks – including cookies – they tend to behave more ambivalently towards them in public settings, and if they do eat these foods, they usually consume less than men, often due to severe societal pressure placed on women to achieve and maintain thinness and patriarchal beauty standards.
Cookies don’t fully illustrate the extent of these issues, but it’s unfair to ask them to; we have to acknowledge these problems ourselves by posing key questions and dismantling concerning structures. Yet our individual food choices still expose this facet of our lives, allowing us to recognize the flawed systems surrounding us and therefore acting as a catalyst for change.
It could seem surprising chocolate chip cookies have so many implications for our individual and collective identities – they’re so quotidien, slipping away when compared against other issues. However, they’re a mirror for our surrounding society and selves. They reveal who we care about, what we value, and how we engage with our past and present; within the same delicious microcosm, they expose embedded cultural patterns – our desire for convenience, our socioeconomic structure, and our gender norms. This lens might be unorthodox, but it’s valuable and even proposes another question: if these principles exist within beloved recipes, how else do they echo within our society, infiltrating seemingly subtle aspects of our lives?
It’s a challenging question, but it matters. We need to look more critically at our daily choices: the foods we eat, the food, media, and culture we consume. They might seem miniscule, but fit into a broader narrative, illuminating our individual and societal tendencies. However, these definitions aren’t static – we have control over these behaviors and who we are, so it’s worth examining our cookie choices more carefully.
Works Cited
“A Timeless Discovery.” 2021. Nestlé Global. February 11, 2021. https://www.nestle.com/stories/timeless-discovery-toll-housechocolate-chip-cookie-recipe. Davison, Candice Braun. 2016. “7 Things You Should Know Before Eating Levain Bakery’s Chocolate Chip Cookies.” Delish. October 17, 2016. https://www.delish.com/food-news/videos/ a49680/levain-bakerys-chocolate-chip-cookies/.
Delap, Josie. 2021. “Making Dough: How Corporate America Created the Chocolate Chip Cookie.” The Economist. March 8, 2021. https://www.economist.com/1843/2021/03/08/makingdough-how-corporate-america-created-the-chocolate-chipcookie.
Dohle, Simone, Sina Rall, and Michael Siegrist. 2014. “I Cooked It Myself: Preparing Food Increases Liking and Consumption.” Food Quality and Preference 33 (April): 14–16. https://doi. org/10.1016/j.foodqual.2013.11.001.
Doolin, Hannah. 2016. “10 Things You Need To Know Before
Eating Toll House Cookie Dough.” Delish. September 16, 2016. https://www.delish.com/food-news/a49236/toll-house-cookiedough-fun-facts/.
Elkus, Grace. 2019. “Are Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookies Really the Best Ever?” The Kitchn. December 11, 2019. https:// www.thekitchn.com/toll-house-chocolate-chip-cookies-265880. Gomez, Pierrick, and Carlos J. Torelli. 2015. “It’s Not Just Numbers: Cultural Identities Influence How Nutrition Information Influences the Valuation of Foods.” Journal of Consumer Psychology 25 (3): 404–15.
Haley, Andrew P. 2012. “The Nation before Taste: The Challenges of American Culinary History.” The Public Historian 34 (2): 53–78. https://doi.org/10.1525/tph.2012.34.2.53.
Herz, Rachel. Why You Eat What You Eat: The Science Behind Our Relationship with Food. W. W. Norton & Company, 2017. Jones, Michael Owen. 2007. “Food Choice, Symbolism, and Identity: Bread-and-Butter Issues for Folkloristics and Nutrition Studies (American Folklore Society Presidential Address, October 2005).” The Journal of American Folklore 120 (476): 129–77.
Michaud, Jon. 2013. “Sweet Morsels: A History of the Chocolate-Chip Cookie | The New Yorker.” December 19, 2013. https://www.newyorker.com/culture/culture-desk/sweet-morsels-a-history-of-the-chocolate-chip-cookie.
Richardson, Paul, and Anthony Saliba. 2011. “Personality Traits in the Context of Sensory Preference: A Focus on Sweetness.” In . https://doi.org/10.1007/978-0-387-92271-3_7.
Ro, Herrine. 2020. “Here’s Why Levain Bakery Is Still NYC’s Best Cookie Shop.” Insider. August 7, 2020. https://www.insider.com/why-levain-bakery-is-new-york-citys-favorite-cookieshop.
“Rumblings from the World of Food.” 2012. Gastronomica 12 (1): 1–6. https://doi.org/10.1525/GFC.2012.12.1.1.
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“Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookies Recipe - NYT Cooking.” n.d. Accessed November 20, 2023. https://cooking.nytimes. com/recipes/1019232-toll-house-chocolate-chip-cookies.
Vabø, Mette, and Håvard Hansen. 2014. “The Relationship between Food Preferences and Food Choice: A Theoretical Discussion.” International Journal of Business and Social Science 5 (7). White, Daniel. 2016. “Hillary Clinton’s ChocolateChip Cookies: A Brief History.” Time. August 19, 2016. https://time.com/4459173/hillary-bill-clinton-cookies-history/.
Wiener-Bronner, Danielle. 2021. “Whole Foods and an Iconic NYC Bakery Team up to Sell Decadent Cookies.” CNN. April 22, 2021. https://www.cnn.com/2021/04/22/ business/levain-cookies-whole-foods/index. html.
hot chocolate: a game for 2 or more players
Phoebe Anderson
This game follows the steps of making hot chocolate with friends. As you read through the instructions, consider how the questions apply to your own life and the lives of those around you. Talk it out with friends. Don’t be afraid to ask questions. Oh, and don’t forget to make hot chocolate.
TIDY YOUR ROOM: You’re having guests over. Your room is a mess. You’ve got to figure something out, now. As you go through your old belongings, you start to remember things about yourself.
Figure out who each of you are. Think through belongings you have on your person. What do they say about who you are? How long have you had each thing? Where did they come from? Ask questions about each other’s belongings.
INVITE SOME FRIENDS OVER: Well. Now that the room is clean, you realize you have forgotten to send the invitations. They’re sitting on your desk. Now’s as good a time as any, you suppose.
Write out the names of some people important to you. They may be other players or people who aren’t here right now. Other players take turns asking questions about them. Through your answers, explain a little about your relationship with each person. Don’t share anything too sensitive, but don’t be afraid to shed a little light on yourself.
TURN ON THE KETTLE: Okay. Deep breaths. Invitations have been sent, room is tidy. Now time for the hot chocolate. The kettle sings in your ears as the water begins to boil.
Explain a conflict. One of the other players chooses one name you’ve discussed before. Think of a time there was a hurdle in your life related to this person. Talk to the other players about how this happened. Was the person the obstacle? Did they help you get through it?
WASH THE DIRTY MUGS: The house is clean, the invitations are boiling, the kettle is on. What’s next? Oh, of course. You forgot to do dishes yesterday. Which mugs would be best for this occasion?
Think about the object chosen to represent you earlier. Does any name on the list have anything to do with this object? Any other objects that feel important to you? Think about the most physical and tangible impacts people have had on your life. What physical and tangible impacts have you had on their lives? Sit in a circle, pass your specialized objects to the next player.
SEARCH THROUGH THE PANTRY: Okay. House clean, invitations sent, kettle on, mugs clean. Now for the hot chocolate itself. Where did you put it again?
What is your main goal in life? Or at least one of the goals in your life. Dream job, dream home, dream spouse. Compare with the other players. Argue a little bit. Try to convince them that your dreams are the best ones. Be friendly about it. Together, choose a goal you want for all of you.
FIND THE HOT CHOCOLATE MIX: Ah there it is. Tucked behind the likely expired crackers. Well. At least the mix is still good.
Think about difficulties you’ve had in your life so far. What’s keeping you from achieving your goals, right here, right now. Offer advice and help to the other players when you hear about their hurdles and difficulties. Can it get worse? Best not to think about it for too long.
TALK TO YOUR FRIENDS: Oh! The doorbell. People are arriving. Just in time. Open the door, greet your friends. Everything else is done.
Think about your new object. Think about the person who gave it to you. What do you want your relationship with them to be? Do you want to be friends? If they gave you this as a gift, how would you feel? What does it say about the two of you?
FORGET THE KETTLE: House cleaned, invitations sent, kettle on, mugs washed, mix found, and friends over. How could anything go wrong now? Wait. Can you hear the kettle anymore?
Think about the people, objects, and events you’ve discussed today. Leave something in the past. It doesn’t need to define you anymore. Do this silently, then discuss with the others how it’s going to change you. Don’t tell them exactly what you’ve left.
TURN ON THE KETTLE AGAIN: Shoot. You were distracted and the water went cold again. You guess hot chocolate will have to wait another few minutes.
Randomly exchange objects. Put them all in the center of a circle and grab one blindly. If you have someone else’s, try to remember whose it is and what it means to them. If you have yours, imagine your life without it or without what it represents to you. How would you be different?
GET OUT MARSHMALLOWS: Well, since the kettle will be a while, might as well search through the pantry again. Marshmallows, marshmallows, marshmallows. No, that’s shredded coconut. Better keep looking.
Think about one of the biggest victories in your life. A time when you were just on top of the world. Write them all down on a piece of paper, and randomly shuffle them. Try to guess who’s victory is who’s. Try to talk people out of matching you to yours. The person with the most correct guesses gets an extra marshmallow.
MAKE THE HOT CHOCOLATE: A beep from the kettle tells you its done. Great, you just found the marshmallows. Ask someone to grab the mugs and the mix and pour yourself some hot chocolate.
As a full group, decide the next time you’re going to hang out. Make sure there is one. As smaller groups or duos, decide when you’re going to hang out like that. What can you do together? Make plans.
ENJOY: It was worth it, wasn’t it?
The game ends. Enjoy your hot chocolate. Talk to your friends. Live.
Bitter like Chocolate, Bitter like Me
Belle Staley
I’ve recently started buying myself chocolate once a week, not out of love. Nor whimsey indulgence. But to remind myself.
15 pieces. 3 servings. 190 calories each, 570 in all. 5 grams of added sugar, 8 % of daily value. All for me, from me.
I buy myself dark chocolate. I like 80 % . 85 on good weeks, seventy six on bad, 70 % when I need it, just to survive. Dark chocolate, because it’s bitter. Because I like it better. Because I’m soft, because nothing is bitter the way chocolate is. Everything is either tar or sickley. I’ve gotten too old to enjoy scrunching my eyes when I love things, and I’m too tired to search for the sweetness.
I want 85 percent when I’m in the mood to sit, to search for the good. I want 76 when I can’t puzzle. When I can’t reflect on how much there really is too much love. But when I want the good, the bad, splayed out simply. I want to be able to inhale, and to savor without having to feel it too much, too deeply. In truth, I want chocolate because I am lustful, I am hateful. I am gorged, though I am starved. I crave my chocolate, as if it’s some deep part of my humanity, some little revealed aspect of myself. I let each calorie lay on my tongue, the sugars and fats tossed onto each other in passion. I let my senses, not just brush against them, but grab for it, insatiable, envious. Each bite is a caress, each melted bit an embrace, between this world, and the one I let myself experience. It reminds me. It reminds me that I’m allowed to be bitter. I’m allowed to indulge in my own bitterness. 15 pieces, and I’m still human, still just me. 15 pieces, like the seeds in a fruit, root me to my morality, to my errors, to myself. How it all tastes so sweet, all my impermanence, all myself, not just the best parts, but all the worst, too. Αt night if I can’t sleep, even when I go through it, labeling my bitterness, my lusts. I think about all the types of chocolate I’ve indulged in, I’ve made myself enjoy.
When I was 16, I hadn’t eaten anything more than veggie straws and bell peppers in 2 days and I grabbed my first bitter bar. 86 % with orange peel and I ate the whole thing on the road outside the parking lot, with my hazards flashing, the neon repetition the only consistency that I al lowed myself to have. I made big ideas of what my life should look like, then had to live it, and hated every moment of it. I tried a lot of diets then and video workouts back then. Bad motivation quotes. Shitty self help books. All I failed in a few weeks. But when I sat in that parking box, lick ing the rapper clean, I decided then and there, fueled with 570 calories, that I would never buy myself another chocolate bar, not once. Not ever.
LIBERTAS
Dear Davidson,
Normally, I write these letters to connect the issue’s theme to what’s happening behind the scenes at Libertas. But how am I supposed to write such a thing with this theme, chocolate? If you can think of an answer, please email me. Upon reflection, I think this practice of mine stems from the magazine’s recent history. I’ve tried to use these letters to let our readers know how we are doing.
But no more! Instead, I’ll say a word about our pieces. It seems to me that this issue’s contributors are making a statement about what chocolate means in the everyday lived experience of humans. Madeline Richard thinks through the layers of chocolate as a symbol: what does the candy mean for our history, our culture, and our identity. Other artists employ and challenge the cliché of chocolate as a romantic tool. Still others seem interested in how chocolate can be weaponized against our bodies and relationships. This candy allows for many more artistic avenues than I originally thought available. I thought this theme would be a “fun” one. Something great for the holiday season, for the end of the semester. But as they always do, Libertas contributors proved me wrong with the art contained in these pages.
So, take a bite. I hope you find the taste sharp, either sweet or bitter. Or both.
Happy Winter Break, Max Shackelford
P.S. Readers, we have a correction from Issue No. 1. The short story titled “The Night the Music Died” was written by Phoebe Anderson, not Clara Oyanguren. Moreover, Clara’s piece ““Excalibur” was not even printed. To apologize and rectify the oversight, we have posted Clara’s story on a public Google Drive link. Use this QR to read the piece.
