First Things, First

When you visit a world-renowned city, certain places are on the top of your list to see. . . Paris - the Eiffel Tower, Cairo - the Pyramids, Athens - the Acropolis, Moscow - Red Square.  Within 30 hours after returning to Moscow on Saturday, I was standing in front of St. Basil's domes with the red-bricked Kremlin wall and clock tower to my left, GUM (goom) department store to my right and Lenin's shiny, black, ominous-looking mausoleum at the far end of the square. As part of the new-hire orientation for  teachers joining the Anglo American School staff, a trip to Red Square with a group picture featuring St. Basil's in the background, is a yearly tradition.  As the director and wife-of-director, Drew and I can now point to our faces in photos of seven of these gatherings.

Despite my delight in meeting the new teachers and in visiting such a grand, historic place, I must admit that something else topped my "Things to do First" list.  I had been craving it since I left Moscow on May 31st, and it was only a quick 5-minute walk from the center of Red Square.  It can be found in many locations around the city, but being so close to this particular spot, I could almost smell its aroma drawing me closer.  Its warm, brown, thick consistency, so thick it can single-handedly support a spoon; its sweet, creamy taste, so creamy it could melt in your mouth, if it weren't already melted.  Through GUM's northern-most revolving door, up two flights of stairs, turn right. We're almost there. . .

Coffee House -- spelled out in coffee-colored Cyrillic letters.  

Drew and I find an empty table, and without needing to look at the menu, I tell the waitress, "HOT CHOCOLATE, please."

She brings it to the table, along with a small glass of cold water.  I place the spoon in the center of the cup; it stands tall.  Perfect!

No chance of drinking it, I eat it with the spoon.  The minute the taste registers with my brain, my body relaxes. "Mmmmm."  Two bites later, I'm reaching for the water.  So delicious, yet so rich!

How do they create this amazing, best-I've-ever-drunk (or eaten) hot chocolate?  I've made it my goal to find out.  The next time I order a cup, which will be soon, I'll invite a Russian friend to join me, hoping that she might ask if I could watch the process.  Is it the particular kind of Russian chocolate they use, the melting process (how hot for how long), the equipment, some special ingredient discovered by Peter the Great and only recently revealed to the modern world?   With only 10 months left of living in Russia, I must learn how to make this myself and figure out how to get a suitcase crammed with bars of chocolate through customs.