While my daughter was in the midst of a semester abroad,
studying in Ireland, she
saved one treat for herself at the end of her school commitment: a trip to Paris. But, of course! Where else would a longtime student of the French language wish to go?
As a consolation prize, upon her return home—barely in time
for Christmas—she brought special gifts. One of them was an exquisite bar of
chocolate, wrapped simply in a transparent plastic wrapper with an orange
cardboard label affixed to the exterior.
The label itself—barring the fact that it is in French and
not our native English—was plainspoken as well: Chocolatier à Paris
à la Mère de Famille. A line on the side of the container added the note: Depuis 1761.
I assure you: words cannot begin to describe the delectable treat
resting inside. It is like no other chocolate I’ve had the privilege of
sampling. If you are ever in Paris, think of me and
buy me another bar of this delicacy. I have been nursing this solitary treat
through the weeks following its presentation at Christmas and, sadly, there are
only a few squares of the precious stuff remaining.
Despite its marvelous smoothness, though, that is not why I
chose to tell you about it today. I have another reason. Actually, it is a
rather sorry reason, owing to the foul temper in which I remain, subsequent to
spending hours searching for the specific link connecting my second great
grandmother to the rest of the Taliaferro clan in Virginia. I am stuck in 1851—not a very impressive date for those delving
into colonial genealogies. I should be wallowing in the names of my many
ancestors preceding that brick wall date. Somewhere like 1761 should be no
problem whatsoever for a surname as well documented as Taliaferro.
But here I sit, stymied with the mismatched records which
will not let me budge beyond that 1851 Waterloo.
And yet a chocolate bar—a chocolate bar,
of all things—can do a better job of tracing its history beyond that taunting
1851 roadblock.
Maybe somewhere in France a chocolate baron is hoping he won't discover that one branch of the family set up business in Pennsylvania. ;-)
ReplyDeleteAt least you have the chocolate.
That I have, Wendy...for the last few lingering morsels...
DeleteLoved reading this post, Jacqi. The chocolate drew me in and I couldn't wait to find out more. Your daughter is a very lucky young lady to study abroad. Perhaps you could order it on line. Have a blessed day.
ReplyDeleteAh, chocolate: the irresistible nibble! I see you are as smitten as I am, Betty. Thanks for stopping by!
DeleteNot likely that I will get to Paris but if I do I will get you some chocolate! Roadblocks...frustrating for sure. Remember to attack for all angles:)
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure which will happen sooner: you getting to Paris, or me finding my way around this roadblock! But thanks for the good thoughts and helpful reminder, Far Side!
DeleteMight have to brush up on our French to order some chocolate!
ReplyDeletehttp://www.lameredefamille.com/
Mais oui!
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