I’ve always liked the term “better half.” Unfortunately, its primarily used by men with a half-smile and self-deprecating humor that suggests they would be helpless sinners without the virtue of their wives’ guiding grace. It’s a suggestion that absolves men from all innate decency and shifts the duty of moral redemption to the woman. That aside, I do like the idea that two people might compliment each other like a donut with glaze, or a cake with filling, or a margarita with a salted rim. The two elements elevate each other, make each other better and create a pairing that’s stronger. As a romantic, I think people can be better together.
When I was twelve year old, I had an idea to put chocolate sauce on a baked potato. I thought that a potato would offer a neutral base and therefore, support sweet, as well as savory toppings. That was the theory. So, I embarked on my experiment, baked the potato and warmed the chocolate sauce in the microwave. As I anticipated my creation, I scoffed at humanity for never discovering this simple delicacy until now. Obviously, I was a culinary genius. The steaming potato was ready, so I split it down the center and I squirted ribbons of melted chocolate over its exposed flesh. I watched as the chocolate sauce quickly seeped into the fluffy, white of the potato, turning it a muddy brown.
The earthiness of the potato was startling in contrast to the sweet chocolate. The chocolate sauce was too thin and quickly absorbed into the potato creating a dark brown, wet, grainy, texture. The forkful was paradox of flavor and texture that should never be repeated. It was inedible.
The failure of the chocolate baked potato is something that has stuck with me. Since then, I’ve crunched into chocolate covered potato chips and considered the difference in flavors compared to my flop. I like them. They’re a novelty and I’m always surprised when I see them in stores because I didn’t think they’d pass the test of time. I think,“Are they still doing that?” Yet, the potato chip, the Oreo and gummy bears enrobed in chocolate have become the Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russel of the chocolate world. Somehow, they’re still around and making movies together.
Relationships are more complex than a chocolate covered gummy bear, but I do believe that we can potentially make each other better, or at least beautifully reveal our more subtle nuances. We enter into relationships believing this simple truth, but sometimes you bet on chocolate sauce and you’re a baked potato. We live. We learn.
I have confidence that experience refines the palate. I am no longer interested in eating baked potatoes with chocolate sauce, or Ego waffles with frozen yogurt. We learn our individual preferences and become more confident in our choices, regardless of what others taste and prefer. Sometimes, we must set aside our pride. With time, I’ve learned to unapologetically consume eggnog, peeps, bologna and Velveeta (not together). I am no longer constrained by the fear of being perceived as unsophisticated. I also know what I do not like and no longer struggle to adopt those things. Attempts to train yourself to like something you find revolting is exhausting and limits potential pleasure. Life’s too short. I do not like seaweed. I do not like fish paste.
We find confidence in our preferences and we set limits for our tolerance of unsettling flavors. And slowly, we learn to define the power and beauty of a timeless pairing.
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