I am on a constant quest to find the perfect hot chocolate, and it’s a perilous one indeed. We live in a country of milk and honey when it comes to various drinks, but good hot chocolate is a grail I have yet to uncover.
Most of what’s on offer in cafés is chocolate-flavoured chalk. And don’t start me on marshmallows – they’re the devil’s pellets.
Over time, I have found little refuges which serve meltocious dark hot chocolate, or creamy hot chocolate that slides down easily. But these refuges are mirages – when I return to them, they’ve vanished.
Photo Description: This is a pic of two hands cupped around a mug of hot chocolate with a tonne of marshmallows on top.
I decided I’d go abroad in my quest for the perfect hot chocolate, and drank the worst hot chocolate of my life – in Belgium!
Really Bad Hot Chocolate
It was in a café that specialised in potato products. That should have been a clue. Potatoes and chocolate aren’t natural bedfellows. Still, I let myself hope when the café promised dark Belgian hot chocolate.
What arrived was a glass of milk.
‘Where’s the chocolate?’ I said.
‘It’s in a sachet beside the glass,’ said Husband.
I opened the sachet and found black pellets in it. You stirred these pellets into the milk. I tipped the pellets into the glass. They sat on top of the milk and formed a thick layer of skin, flatly refusing to melt into the lukewarm milk.
I do feel a perverse sense of pride that I drank the worst hot chocolate of my life in a country famed for its exquisite chocolate.
Really Good Hot Chocolate
There is light on the horizon though. During my many ski trips to Germany and Austria, I have the privilege of drinking creamy hot chocolate, laced with just the right amount of sweetness. And not a marshmallow in sight.
And my best-ever hot chocolate was in a bar in Lisbon. This bar was chock full of tempting hot chocolates, but I spurned them all in favour of a dark hot chocolate so thick you could eat it with a spoon.
Indeed, it did come with a long latte spoon, handy for scooping up stray scraps at the end. I let drops of chocolate fall from the spoon into my mouth. I let it coat my tongue with its sweet tang. It felt like a benediction.
Feel free to share any spots in this country that serve ‘proper’ hot chocolate – no chalky chocolate or marshmallows allowed.