Churros y Chocolate/Churros and Chocolate

My very first Spanish language book from freshman year of high school was called, “Churros y Chocolate.”  In fact, I still have it buried away in a storage bin somewhere at home.  I always thought it was a strange name for a book, and the concept of dipping donut sticks into melted chocolate even stranger (what can I say?  I was a kid from Northwest Ohio and the thought of the deliciousness that could be never crossed my mind back then).  Twenty-some years later, I feel very differently.

The consistency of the chocolate is something between what we in the United States know as hot chocolate and pudding.  The texture of the churros strikes a perfect balance between slightly crunchy on the outside and slightly chewy on the inside.  And the tastes that marry between the bittersweet chocolate and the not-quite salty, deep-fried manna from heaven are only part of the attraction.  A larger portion of the perfection-that-becomes goes to what happens to the consistency of the churro when it is dipped in the chocolate, with every nook and cranny perfectly filled with just the right proportion.  The delight to the tongue is to die for.

I try to indulge in this pleasure no more than once a week, though when I first arrived to Madrid I had some for dessert my first night in Spain and then again for breakfast the next day.  I mean, why not?  Yesterday I enjoyed these while having a leisurely breakfast at 11:45 a.m. outside the bustling Plaza de Flores where, you guessed it, they sell gorgeous bunches of flowers.  I bought the ‘Diaro de Cadiz’ from a man standing with a stack of papers not more than 10 yards from my café table singing, “Dee-aaaaaaaaar-ee-ooooh, ‘d Cad-eeeee” every minute or so. 

Cielo.