There’s something about the first hot chocolate of the season. I used to sprinkle hot chocolates throughout the year, but it’s rare now. I have other year-round favorites. And while it’s not the reason, the result is a more significantly marked first hot chocolate each fall. It’s usually with the first cold snap. And it’s always a milk-based hot chocolate. I’ll settle for a good water-based as well (usually the difficult to find Keurig Swiss Miss peppermint with french vanilla creamer added) but not in the beginning. I realize it makes me a bit of a hot chocolate snob.
It might seem extreme to some, but drinking hot chocolate is often a five sense indulgence to me. There are situations, such as, a sip and drive while chatting with someone, when it is more of a functional experience, but the first hot chocolate of the season is never that. It is always at home and always personal.
The smell of the milk warming, then the rich chocolate combining and wafting into the air.
The sight of the steam as it meets the cooler air, even though the house is warm. Sometimes I add whipped cream and watch the edges of it melt into the chocolate, resembling a smooth skating rink.
The feeling of my hands around the mug is one of my favorites. I purposely slightly overheat the milk so I can hold the warm cup, blow on the hot chocolate to cool it, feel the steam, and warm my hands as I smell the waft of chocolate and cream. I choose a wide mug, so as much as possible of my palms and fingers touch the mug.
And, of course, the taste. I carefully sip the warm, creamy chocolate. I savor it as it warms my throat and fills my belly. It’s something I’ve found about hot chocolate. While it’s not the best way to intake calories, it is definitely filling.
Some might wonder how I experience the fifth sense—hearing. It’s a bit more subtle but still important. It’s the spoon clinking on the mug as I stir. It’s the sound of my breath as I cool the hot chocolate. It’s the gulp as it slides down my throat. And it’s the sigh of satisfaction and relaxation.
It’s all familiar. It connects to a core memory. I can’t be sure of the first time I tasted hot chocolate, but the most often when I was little was on sledding days. We’d bundled up and trudge to the hills, close to a quarter mile away, and fly down the hills into the creek bottom. Trudging to the top was a challenge. Some days we’d repeat the trip a dozen times; other days only a few. Then we’d make it back to the house and pull off the outer layers before Mom served (usually homemade) hot chocolate with marshmallows. It was always a treat.
I savored hot chocolate in Vienna with my daughter. I sat at a Ghiradelli shop in Chicago while waiting for another daughter and frequently sipped on hot chocolate while writing. I’ve tried many local coffee shops’ versions of hot chocolate as I’ve travelled around the country. I’m experienced, but I’m no expert.
What I know is this: the first hot chocolate of the year is special. It’s a welcome to the cozy season! Just because it’s cold and dreary outside at times doesn’t mean it has to be that way on the inside.
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