I give “chocolate eating lessons” all over the country. It’s fun. I put chocolate out there as a solution to our weight and health problems—as a virtue, not a vice. I bring Godiva, we all eat, and walk away understanding the distinction between quantity and quality, and how to make that work for you in everyday life. In fact, sometimes spas ask me out to keynote an event with these lessons.
During a recent summer, one particular spa in Austin, Texas put out press releases to announce the chocolate event, and an editor at Rodale saw it. I received an email from her, and followed up with a phone call about three seconds later. The next thing I knew I was writing a book on chocolate.
This book isn’t just about chocolate’s Mesoamerican origins, that it was actually used as a currency (four cocoa beans for a rabbit dinner, 10 for a lady of the evening, etc.), or how modern processing has fundamentally altered its form, taste, color, antioxidant content, and uses. These are all really interesting, but the book I wrote ties chocolate directly to weight loss.
Let me tell you, this viewpoint is not an easy sell. One of the biggest hurdles is our dysfunctional culture of "health," which has you believe that chocolate and weight loss are incompatible. Or that I'm the author of yet another round of faddish scheme designed to prey on people who don’t have the time, inclination, or critical mass of neurons not to be duped by gimmicky gyps that could never possibly make sense.
Our knee-jerk response has a logical flow that goes something like this: