Choco-what?

In an article in yesterday’s New York Times, Julia Moskin writes

Chocolate has developed a peculiar aftertaste.

It isn’t the flavor I find odd; it’s the fetish. The “death by chocolate” desserts and “decadent” chocolate truffles, the “indulgent” chocolate-scented spa treatments and overly intense T-shirt slogans (“I am a woman of many moods — and all of them need chocolate”).

Chocolate, a perfectly delicious food, is now saddled with this heavy-breathing reputation.

“Yes!” I thought as I read it, “Yes, that’s precisely it! All of this obsession is so weird.” I don’t like chocolate—I’ve never understood the hysteria that surrounds it. I read on, hoping that there would be further deconstruction of the chocolate obsession, but the article quickly changes gears, segueing into a discussion of the delights of brownies (somehow, it seems, they avoid the “heavy breathing” connotation; if Moskin thinks so, she’s clearly never let loose a tray of brownies in a dormitory).

I’d like to see someone address this obsession from my point of view. In other words, I’d like someone to look at chocoholism not as the natural, inherent state of things, but as something different. Why is it that when a person says they don’t like, say, caramel, no one finds that preference odd or unlikely, but when a person expresses a distaste for chocolate, they get funny looks and disbelieving comments. “Really? You don’t like chocolate? You can’t be a woman.” (Someone actually said that to me once. I was astonished to discover that womanhood was not conferred by one’s chromosomes but instead by one’s affinity for the fruit of the cacao tree.) What is it about chocolate that makes so many people believe a taste for it to be so fundamental? I’m not looking for biological or chemical explanations—I believe the obsession is built over those scientific bases, a sociocultural frosting of mania on top of the biological layer cake.