Delighting Not in the Ordinary

How the winds of fate choose never to favour the ordinary! It is a cruel lot indeed for so many, yet I suspect it self-inflicted. Ordinariness is not a vice like original sin. One is not born destined for it. It is a cursed pattern of acceptance and omission, a reluctance to challenge ones reality nor distinguish oneself in any particular regard. The fault of the masses lies not in being ordinary, but rather in thinking the ordinary extraordinary. That is a flaw unforgivable. One sees brass and thinks it gold. One sees chocolate syrup and thinks it chocolate.

It is not.

I had the opportunity to try JJ Bean’s hot chocolate this afternoon. Admittedly, I was sampling it in scandal, having sat on a bus for over an hour to secretly rendez-vous with a former lover at this cafe. This scandal saddened both of us - how passions harm us wickedly! We had gone with the explicit intention of acquiring hot chocolate. It was not the conciliatory drink we hoped it might be. Thus I had two things to weep over that day. This lover of mine had two expenses to weep over, for he purchased two JJ Bean hot chocolates.

It was not that they were bad. They simply weren’t good. This chocolate was the quintessential realisation of mediocrity, and I have a habit of punishing that. This hot chocolate was a perfect example of Vancouver hot chocolate and truly exists as a physical symbol of the impetus behind my starting this great House. It is the belief of this House that JJ Bean hot chocolate is boring and bland.

The transgression lies in its core ingredient. I am of the understanding that JJ Bean makes their hot chocolate by combining chocolate syrup with warm milk - if I am wrong, let my name rot in shame. I am frightened to accuse anyone of this evil, so grievous is its implications. How flawed is the syrup approach. I have a dream that no cafe worth their salt would ever willingly settle for subpar substance. Either my dream rests unfulfilled or JJ Bean is a cafe, I suppose, not worth its salt. Hot chocolate summons for me the image of chocolate - genuine chocolate that is a solid at room temperature - melted into milk. The strange conglomeration of chocolate syrup and milk reminds me of the days when I had unsupervised access to plastic Nestle bottles as a child. One day I grew up and realised how poorly those drinks tasted. JJ Bean ought to do the same.

Chocolate syrup lacks the rich flavour of what it seeks to imitate. It shall never be anything more than sugar with vague - terribly vague - notes of cocoa. It has not the thickness of real chocolate, leading to a low viscosity mess of sadness. The endogenous sugar makes controlling the sweetness level impossible. The only way to make syrup palatable is by heavily diluting it with milk, an action which itself is a sin, for then the drink tastes only of dairy. In short, there is no winning when it comes to syrup. It is a grave fault.

And yet it is so common. I am not so harsh a critic that I pretend that JJ Bean is anymore unfortunate than other Vancouver establishments. The truth is that this syrup flaw is of the character I alluded to earlier - ordinary. Utterly, utterly ordinary. I wish I could decry this singular hot chocolate maker. I cannot, at least not it alone. I decry this whole hegemony of chocolate syrup. It is a blight on so many cafes. I sentence this whole system to Hell, damned Hell! The mix of chocolate syrup and milk shall never be anything extraordinary. It shall always be inferior, and that is so unfortunately ordinary.

I am sure it is possible for a syrup to be crafted whose taste is at least worth Purgatory. When that day comes, perhaps I will find some peace in my raging soul. For now, I gaze upon these lost souls and their weary trek to the eternal furnace, where the milk is burned and no real chocolate resides.