In the midst of the world terror crisis and civilizations teetering on collapse, there could be no better time to address the much neglected skill of optimum biscotti dippage.
Biscotti is a bread, not quite a confection, long and often thin, though not always. It is rather dry, and hard enough to crack all teeth except for molars, and those too if you’ve ever had molar issues. The reason for this? Biscotti is made to be dipped into beverages, and that is a wonderful thing. It can be eaten alone, but so can you by wild animals-it doesn’t mean it’s something you should consider.
Biscotti is Latin for “twice-baked”, and while that’s not extremely important, it explains the biscotti’s hard and dry character. Pliny the Elder said biscotti would be good for centuries, and he is right. Pliny the Younger preferred scones from Starbucks, and while famous in his own right, his uncle has my allegiance.
The lovely thing? Biscotti is often drizzled with chocolate. Nothing is so good that it can’t be improved with a drizzle of chocolate. This includes our political climate, Lady GaGa, and the current state of architecture.
Let’s go directly to the 10 Steps for Optimum Biscotti Dippage:
1) Put your cup of hot coffee (or tea) on a flat surface, oh, say a table for instance.
2) Keep your coffee within a constant field of vision so no one swipes it while you acquire biscotti. Some purists acquire biscotti and coffee in the same transaction, perfectly acceptable.
3) Holding one end of the biscotti between thumb and index finger (under support and maneuvering via the next finger) dip the lowest inch of biscotti into the beverage, slowly.
4) Silently count 1, 2, 3, and on 4, raise the biscotti from the coffee, but not outside the perimeter of the cup. This allows for drips (of which I am one) to go right back to the coffee.
5) Simultaneously move your mouth, along with your accompanying head, toward the cup while lifting the biscotti. Both parties should meet within about 3 inches of the cup.
6-10) Bite, chew, swallow, roll your eyes, and lay the biscotti on a plate for the next round.
Repeat this process until you’re out of coffee, out of biscotti, out of money.
As we draw the torn curtain on this year of 2009 (ah, the roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd) let’s hope the little things, the elegant things, the tasty things help us amble on toward 2010.