Chocolate has always been one of my favorite foods — especially chocolate wrapped around caramel and pecans. However, I could easily forgo chocolate wrapped around various fruit creams.
This was not a big problem when I was very young because I never got boxes of chocolates. When I was allowed to choose one from some other person’s gift, I would choose a caramel because they were always square. It was the round ones which were the problem.
Then I reached the magic age when I received a box of chocolates. My mother warned me whatever I bit into I had to finish. Since she gave it to me, I figured I had to play by her rules. This lasted until I bit into a weird pineapple orange cream. I liked pineapple and orange, but not wrapped up in chocolate. So, I modified Mom’s rules
I learned how to poke small holes in the bottom of the candy so I could see the inside. The tops still looked fine, so no one could tell the difference except for my brothers who were not about to complain about the condition of candy they swiped from me.
My method worked very well until Bill and I were married. One day he mentioned there were holes poked in the bottom of the chocolates. I explained why, stressing the practicality of it since the hole kept me from throwing away half a piece of candy.
He solved the problem rather deftly, When he bought me a box of chocolates, he got all vanilla creams. I felt secure, and he no longer had to contend with poked candy.
Last week we went to visit my elderly aunts who live in the Dayton area. We took them each a box of their favorite brand of light chocolate candies.
My 94-year-old aunt was especially delighted. She ripped the cellophane off in record time, opened the box and inhaled the aroma.
“Ahhh,” she breathed, “there’s nothing like a fresh box of good chocolate candy.”
Then she looked them all over and selected a turtle, the chocolate wrapped around caramel and pecans.
“My absolute favorite,” she informed us as she took her first bite.
Then she offered the box to us and insisted we have some.
Skipping her favorite, the one remaining turtle, we each took a cream. It was safe because I know the shape of every cream in those boxes.
As we munched she told us we should hide the box where she could reach it before we left because when she got candy she didn’t care for she left it out for the nurses to eat. So if the good stuff was left out, they would think they could eat it all.
We agreed on an appropriate hiding place. (We had already checked with the nurses and knew she was allowed to have the candy.)
She decided to have another little piece. We declined. She looked at the remaining turtle, shook her head, and chose a small cream.
“Maybe you should go ahead and eat the other turtle,” I suggested, “because if someone else gets into it they might eat it.”
She looked from the cream in one hand to the turtle still in the box, weighing her choices. Then she picked up the turtle, took a bite out of it, and put it back in the box as she smiled smugly at us. “They won’t take it now,” she assured us.
A marvelous idea. When I’m 94 I won’t have to poke holes or memorize creams. I can just follow the lead of my brilliant aunt and take a bite out of each piece. If Bill objects, he can buy his own box of candy.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This column was first published in the Greenville Advocate Sept. 27, 2000.
