I’m gonna go way off track, but I just can’t help it–

I’m enchanted by the Irish. The Irish chocolate brand, “Butlers”, that is.

I remember my dad coming home from the grocery one night and him showing me that box of Butlers Hot Chocolate Drink. He told me, “Here’s a new chocolate drink that you can try”. Not really being a hot chocolate fan, I just said okay and shrugged it off.

It’s been in our pantry for months now, something I always saw yet bypassed in pursuit of the canister of coffee beans. It was only tonight that I finally thought to try it. Due to the cravings brought about by that impending *time of the month*, I broke my “no-desserts-on-evenings-except-Sundays-and-special-occasions” code and mixed up a mug of Butlers hot chocolate. I wanted to take a photo of the chocolate “cup” resting upon the white sea of milk (low fat, give me points for that!), but as I was getting my phone, my mom mixed everything up, ruining my “pretend-artsy” shot. Oh well, there’s always next time.

When it was all good and mixed, I poured it into my clear mug and eyed it skeptically. It looked to be on the milky side to me, and I followed the amount of milk in the recipe. I figured, “Okay, I won’t have too high expectations then”. I basically just needed my chocolate fix.

Having a bit of a phobia from burning my tongue one time too many, I didn’t drink it right away. I puttered around the kitchen, preparing my glass of water (I always drink water in between sipping other beverages) and generally waiting for it to cool down. Then I couldn’t stand the suspense and took that first sip.

It wasn’t a climactic event. I wasn’t rocked off my heels, the world didn’t spin off its axis. But I did get that sparkle in my eyes, felt that tingle in my spine–both things that I usually associate with a good cup of coffee. The smell of it, so important in beverages, was subtly seductive, as was the taste. It’s the right amount of sweetness, not too overwhelming as to be…oh shoot, what’s the direct translation of “nakakasuya”? This is one of those times that nothing but the local word would suit perfectly. Let’s just say that it’s not something you’ll quickly grow tired or sick of.

Then my dad goes on to say, “That’s chocolate from Ireland”.

Aaah, Ireland. You’re on my list, you are, right along with Scotland. How serendipitous was it that right after I started rereading a novel based in Ireland, I ended up drinking a cup of Irish hot choco? I had just settled in minutes earlier with my Kindle and my cup, and I was struck by the urge to write about that magical moment. Because really, is there anything as enchanting as the combination of the perfect novel and the perfect drink?

Okay, yes there is. It’s sipping that perfect drink while snuggled in with that perfect novel right there in that perfect place.

One day. One day, I’ll write about that perfect moment.