Great Expectations

At a community songfest the other night, I bought a cookbook made by ladies of a local church. Looking through it when I got home, I was pleasantly surprised to find recipes I'd wanted to make, but couldn't remember the exact details.  One was icing for German Chocolate Cake, a delicious, simple cooked frosting I used to love when my sister-in-law made it.  I can't wait to try it.

The other was for Chocolate Gravy! I knew it by the name, Cocoa Gravy, as a child, when Mama would make it for our breakfast.  She made biscuits and regular gravy for the adults, but the kids got Cocoa Gravy over her wonderful, homemade biscuits!

Lying in bed this morning contemplating what might taste good for breakfast (difficult decision, since I don't have much sense of taste), I remembered the cookbook and Cocoa Gravy!  Just the right incentive to make me spring out of bed.  (Hubby had arisen predawn, made his own breakfast, and was fast asleep in his easy chair.)

First, I made a half-dozen biscuits and put them in to bake.  Then, following directions, I mixed the sugar, flour, cocoa and salt, adding milk and stirring it into what became a luscious-looking, bubbling pan of chocolate temptation.  I  broke open a hot biscuit and covered it with a generous dollop. Hm.  It was good, but as expected, I couldn't detect the butter and vanilla flavor it contained, not to mention the full taste of chocolate.  And it was too sweet!  I called my husband, and he wasn't impressed when he took a bite.

Finding the recipe in an online website, I realized I had used more sugar than necessary. I could have used 1/3 cup less, according to Paula Deen!  Next time I will, although I'm not under any illusions it will taste as good as it did to my childhood palate!  Anyway, homegrown cookbooks have not been subjected to the scrutiny of a test kitchen and are not immune to a few typos.

Oh well, accidents will happen, as I learned the night I bought the book. I had noticed  the display of them on the counter when we entered the concert.  The hostess on duty invited me to look through it, then my husband wrote out the check.  At the end of the program, Howard wanted to speak to someone he recognized, and leaving his styrofoam cup of coffee on the table he went to greet his friend.  I reached to pick up the cookbook and knocked over the coffee! I grabbed the book, but it was splattered.

The kind concession attendant brought towels and sopped things up, but when I opened the book he saw that the page edges were wet.  "I can fix that," he said, and surprised me by handing me an unspoiled cookbook from the stack on the counter.  "Are you sure?" I asked, and he assured me it was okay.  Maybe my next batch of Cocoa Gravy will be, too!