A Slab of Ganache

Tomorrow a great deal of chocolate confectionery will be consumed, although most of it will contain little chocolate. True chocaholics will tell you that the only way to appreciate chocolate is in the form of bars, preferably from a single estate in Venezuela or Trinidad and definitely with a fancy Parisian chocolatier’s name on the packet. They will tell you that even the finest bergamot-infused, salt-caramel filled truffles are an adulteration of the sensation of eating the finest extra-bitter couverture. My mother would have agreed: her idea of dessert was a few squares of dark chocolate in a baguette already liberally daubed with unsalted butter and, no, unlike her son, she was quite trim. I daresay I continue to buy dark chocolate in her shadow, knowing it is what I should like and like it I do, in moderation, with a little cup of espresso by its side.