Schumann & Chocolate

This afternoon, by accident, I combined two of life's great pleasures into a sensual moment of aural and oral bliss.  The second movement of the Schumann Piano Concerto was beginning on my stereo system as I unwrapped a piece of dark chocolate of an unknown brand.  I placed the square of chocolate on my tongue just as the lilting orchestral notes of the second subject filled my listening room.

My usual method of eating chocolate is to bite immediately into it, breaking it up into smaller pieces in the mouth, letting the pieces slowly, languorously, melt against the palate, then allowing the tongue, almost involuntarily, to push the bits this way and that with a delicious randomness, while the slow melting occasioned by the warmth of the oral cavity coats its lining with the bittersweet flavor of the cacao bean.  It is the process of this melting in the heat of one's mouth, and the sweet involvement of the tongue mashing the chocolate bits against the teeth that produces what I believe is one of life's sublime enjoyments.

But today I departed from the usual routine, thanks to the Schumann.  The interplay of soloist and orchestra gave me reason to shift the morsel in my mouth rather than bite down into it.  Thus the square of chocolate remained relatively intact, and its hard edges began to soften, ever so slowly, as I allowed it to perch upon my tongue, subjecting it to just the smallest amount of movement, licking only when I felt it might fall against the gums or lower teeth.

Thus did that square of chocolate last through a good part of the andantino grazioso, enhacing one's enjoyment of it in a way that it would be wrong of me to further describe.

You just have to try it for yourself.