Category Archives: Random junk

Random junk

Very. Dark. Chocolate.

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Theo Chocolate
Originally uploaded by dierken.

It all started a few months ago. A colleague at work brought a Dagoba Eclipse chocolate bar. It is 87% pure cocoa. For comparison, your regular Hershey’s chocolate bar contains around 35% cocoa. This thing was really dark. Too dark and bitter for him, and for most people he tried to unload the bar on.

Finally I got the chocolate and loved every bit of it. I always liked chocolate. I used to eat half a bag of Hershey’s Kisses every Friday. But this ultra-dark stuff is a whole new world.

I must have mentioned it to my dad, because he brought back from his last trip of Israel about ten bars of Cote D’Or Brute (86%) and Lindt Excellence (85%); neither Israeli brands, by the way.
On Wednesday I went chocolate hunting to the downtown Whole Foods Market. I bought two bars of Xocolatl (74% + chilies – the way the Aztecs liked it, sort of), one of Dolfin Noir 88% de Cacao and a single bar of Theo Venezuela Limited Edition Dark Chocolate (91%). The freaking bar was $7 USD!!! Better be incredibly good. I haven’t tried them. We’ll see.

I could not find any of the elusive Prima Materia (100%). That’s the next step. Maybe it’s time to do some online shopping.

Oh, and speaking of Venezuela: Have you joined La Polla America yet? Time is running out!

Random junk

Speech impediment

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When I speak English, apparently (unbelievably) there is still a hint of a foreign accent somewhere in there. So when I meet new people they usually get curious about it. They can hear I’m foreign, but they can’t ever place me as Mexican, as I don’t look like the average Mexican.
Lately, I have changed my default answers. It’s fun and goes something like this:

Marcos and a new acquaintance are introduced by a third party. A few seconds of smalltalk ensue, followed by the inevitable question.

NA (New acquaintance): So tell me, Marcos. Where are you from?

MK (Marcos): I’m from Chicago.

NA: Oh, O.K. But where are you from originally?

MK: I’m from Chicago.

NA: Really? Where is that accent from then?

MK: Accent? Oh, that’s no accent. I have a speech impediment.

Uncomfortable silence. The look on NA’s face is priceless at this moment. Marcos wishes he had had his camera on him at all time.

More uncomfortable silence. The length of the silence must be carefully controlled, like a stroll over the fine line between being a fearless jokester and an incorrigible asshole.

MK: Jajaja! Just kidding. I’m from Mexico.

Oh, the look on his/her face… I wish I always had a camera on me. If the new acquaintance recovers from this one, you know you’ve made a new friend.

Random junk

Memory

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This morning I forgot my cellphone at home. And my badge. And my wallet. And for the love of me I just can’t remember my middle name. However I did bring a bag of HEB-branded Teriyaki Beef Jerky, which is really odd because I haven’t eaten beef jerky in years. It’s really tasty.

Random junk

Look who’s here, it’s the alfajores!

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An alfajor is a traditional cookie in some South American countries, most notably Uruguay, Argentina, Peru and Chile. Its most basic form consists of two round sweet biscuits generally joined together with dulce de leche. (Wikipedia – what else?)

Alfajores Havanna

Today, as arrive home from another day of hard work, I find in my mailbox a suspiciously bulky package from a J.W.F. of Albany, NY. Ignoring the death threats I’ve been receiving lately (mostly from an A.G.M.T. of Austin, TX and related to a certain photograph in which two acquaintances of mine appear in their tighty whities) and the strong possibility that the package could have been a Una-bomber style letter, some Anthrax, or even worse, a copy of Maná’s latest CD, I took it inside and opened it.

In the package I found a red, metallic box with the Fossil logo of on it. “Cool! a new watch” I thought to myself. Quickly I opened the box to find inside, not a watch, but something so much better: two delicious Havanna alfajores (this is the good shit, not just any alfajor) smuggled all the way from the Patagonia to my mailbox.

Turns out, a few weeks ago while on the phone with my friend Jan Fernheimer, I mentioned my weakness and addiction for the ever ellusive (in the middle of Texas, anyway) chocolaty, crumbly cookie sandwich with milk candy inside and covered with chocolate. Jan has now become the second person in the world to have ever snail-mailed me alfajores, and as such, she has ensured my eternal gratitude, which has been known to last over two weeks. I want this post to serve as a thank you note and a public acknowledgement to Jan and her two alfajores (out of context, this last part may sound dirty to some of my readers).

For more alfajor cyber-goodness, be sure to visit the official website of Havanna, and this flickr photoset !בואנה זה טעים