Chocolate-Covered Memories

Food is like a time machine, inextricably linking certain meals or flavors with memories from the past. Usually, its something home-prepared that does it, like the way my mom’s breakfast casserole reminds me of Christmas mornings or how Mema’s boiled cookies take me back to family ski trips in Sky Valley. But sometimes its something as simple as a store-bought morsel of hazelnut chocolate wrapped in gold foil.

Recently, a co-worker offered me a Ferrero Rocher chocolate truffle, and instantaneously, a memory from childhood popped into my head. It was a special occasion, and my dad had given my mother a gift. Now, it's a running joke in my family that Mom is the primary gift-buyer, though she always shares the credit with Dad on the card. On birthdays and Christmas, my sister and I always make a big show of "thanking" Dad for each gift we open, even though it's typically safe to assume that the contents of the package are as much (if not more) of a surprise to him as to us. But when my dad is responsible for the gift in question, there’s no question about it.  

I always love Dad’s gifts, first of all because they are always so well thought-out – perhaps something practical that he knows we could use (my favorite was a key chain chapstick holder), or something unique from a trip he's been on (pot holders from Alaska) or something fun we can use as a family (plastic saucer sleds for an upcoming ski trip). And secondly, his gifts are always well-presented. I didn't say well wrapped (his skills with wrapping paper don’t exactly live up to department store standards), but there's often an element of presentation to his gift-giving – the last present to be brought out from the basement on Christmas morning, or a personalized print-out he’s made on the computer to accompany a gift card. And this particular gift for Mom was no exception.

The box he gave her was rather large, and she opened it only to find another wrapped box inside. Inside that was yet another wrapped box, and so on and so on until she reached the smallest package – a box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. I imagine there might have been a hint of disappointment to find a simple box of confections after all that anticipation. 

But when she opened it up, she found that one of the truffles was a bit misshapen – rather than a sphere of chocolate and hazelnuts, that one piece of foil held a $100 bill. I’m missing a few details – exactly which occasion it was, or what the money was meant for – but for the most part, the scene plays out in my mind like a VHS recording from our old family camcorder. To this day, I cannot eat a Ferrero Rocher chocolate without thinking of that occasion and my dad’s special way with presents. It’s a chocolate-covered memory, and the taste is so sweet.


What do your memories taste like?