Chocolate Cello

A Philadelphian sharing a liqueur with a cowboy from Montana!

For several years, my wife and I lived at South and Second, a funky yet diverse neighborhood of Philadelphia.  We both loved it, but in 2008 my wife died from brain cancer (a whole other story).  She died on a Thursday, and we buried her the next day (Jewish tradition) and were having people over at my wife’s brother’s home.  I had to leave early to go to the airport to pick up a long time friend who was coming to visit us that weekend (previously arranged).  It was great seeing “Hank” and it gave me some distraction from my grief and pain. Hank spent the weekend with me since he had some business in Philadelphia on Monday morning. On Sunday evening, he wanted some good Italian food since he had been living in Montana and had not had the luxury of a good Italian meal in years!

 

So off we went to a local restaurant where I personally knew the chef Anthony.  He not only knew me but also knew my wife and we had eaten there often. So Anthony was especially attentive, cordial, and gracious throughout the meal.  At the end of dinner, Anthony joined us for a “digestivo”; understand, that Hank and I had already consumed a bottle of Chianti!  Anthony brought out a bottle of homemade “chocolate cello”.  I have had lemoncello (an Italian liqueur made from lemons) often and loved mine cold in a chilled glass but had never had “chocolate” cello before!  Isn’t it funny that Italians love to add pure alcohol to everyday beverages.  Being a cowboy from Montana, Hank was not familiar with this drink either and was a little hesitant, although loving chocolate!

 

Anthony served this special liquid in slender tall glasses, and we began to sip it.  It quickly became apparent that Hank really loved chocolate and his full glass suddenly disappeared.  I tried to explain to him that liqueurs were meant to be drank slowly, savoring its taste and aroma, but this cowboy just wanted to get to the bottom of the glass!  With his glass almost empty, Hank tilted his head back with the glass straight up and was trying to tongue the very last drops from the bottom of this very small, slender glass.  We laughed so hard because he was then pretending that his tongue was stuck! Everyone around us wanted to know what we were drinking!

 

As we were leaving the restaurant, Anthony came out from the kitchen to say goodnight and presented my friend Hank with a bottle of the “chocolate cello”! Hank was very touched by this gesture, but Anthony explained that he had plenty and, since we so enjoyed the liqueur, he wanted Hank to take some home to Montana.  Great idea, except for the current flight restrictions prohibiting bringing liquids onto planes. So my buddy Hank figured since I was planning on driving cross-country to his ranch in Montana, I could bring along a cooler to keep his “chocolate cello” chilled for him!

 

After Hank left to return to his ranch, I had the bottle in my freezer (alcohol does not freeze) for several weeks until I left for my cross-country adventure.  I needed to get away and wanted to see some friends out West.  After driving it in a cooler across a number of States which is probably illegal, I finally arrived at the ranch and presented it to Hank and his girlfriend.  Hank was tickled that I had done this for him and he was looking forward to enjoying it.  For several days I played cowboy, helping Hank feed and tend to his cattle and many other chores around the ranch.  In the evenings we would sit on his front porch and just listen to the quiet, which was much different than the serenade of city noises that I could hear from my 7^th floor balcony overlooking Macco’s Bar at South and 3^rd.  

 

At the end of the week, Hank had a “branding”, meaning that all of the neighbors and friends come over and help with the branding of the calves but also expect to be fed!  So, that evening Hank and his girlfriend had a delicious barbecue for the workers and some of their wives who joined the festivities.  At the end of the meal, Hank comes walking out with the bottle of “chocolate cello” and proceeds to tell the story about Anthony’s generosity and tasty beverage.  As he is telling the story, his girl friend comes out with large glasses.  I immediately explained to her that this cello had to be served in small glasses not in these large milk-shake size glasses.   She went back into the kitchen and found enough small glasses to serve everyone.   As Hank was going person to person filling the glasses, the guy next to me who had a stomach the size of a watermelon and a spacious beard to cover the top of his western overalls, simply gulped the chocolate down, exclaiming how good it was and asking for seconds! Hank was shocked and tried to explain to his guests that this was to be savored and cherished not thrown down like a glass of whiskey. Refills were not allowed, and Hank declared that since this was his gift from Anthony, it would be an insult to his Italian Philadelphian friend if he did not save some it for special occasions!  The cowboys around the table agreed but argued that this “branding” certainly should be considered a “special occasion”, so Hank responded by hiding his “chocolate cello”.  So, another Philadelphian special food is now part of the Montana food culture…well, at least within one household in those mountains!