I call it mousse

I described my bloglessness at work previously as something like an elusive chocolate mousse.

I am proud to say that while I haven't exactly managed to recover blogging at work of late, I have managed to make meself a rather fine choc mousse. And oh, what a fine choc mousse that was! And oh, what an accomplishment for a gal whose previous kitchen accomplishments include washing lettuce with soap, and burning omelettes.

YAY for me.

I studied the choc mousse recipe carefully before beginning. Melt chocolate, it said, over a very high heat saucepan, over boiling water. I chose a chocolate block and popped it in the saucepan.

And waited.

And waited.

Here is a question for Chocolate Trivia Buffs.

Why is it, when a chocolate, whether it be Flake, or Mars Bar, dark or white, or a little shell chocolate, even on a cool day, if you wish to take it out with you to munch on at a picnic or at work and are looking forward to it, will turn to a gooey uneatable mess within the space of usually under half an hour (and usually have seeped out to ruin that lovely expensive novel you were reading, and that unreturnable silk shirt you just bought) ...

Yet when you wish to melt a chocolate bar and stick it on high heat over a stove for an hour, the darn thing stays as solid as a brick?

"Soften up! Soften up!" I cried.

I really ought to have taken the bar to work with me and gazed at it for 15 minutes greedily, and popped in a Booker winning novel and a silk shirt to hurry up the melting process.

Next step "two eggs, separated".

This seems to be a farcical instruction. Two eggs already ARE separated. That is why they are two and not one. They have different shells.

I managed to whisk up the eggs without too much drama and throw in some cream, and what resulted was very chocolatey ... stuff.

I'll call it mousse. Chocolatey is good, anyhow. I have broken down the barrier between chocolate mousse and myself. It's been a long, and delicious battle.

I still don't blog at work though. One more barrier to go.