Halva

I was at Joe Caputo's grocery the other day, waiting at the always-spectacular but crowded deli counter. We were in a hurry to get to a friend's house. I picked up something that I thought was torrone, encased in plastic wrap as though it had been freshly made. Chris gave me the look that he gives me when he is annoyed that I have decided to experience something new when we are in a hurry to get somewhere. The parcel read, "halva," which I'd never had. Or heard of, for that matter. But I figured, "Well... it has something marshmallowy in it, and pistachios (which is, delightfully, the junk-food of nuts), so how could it be bad?" I tried to pull off a hunk just as we pulled up to our friend Cameron and Lindsay's house. I expected it to be chewy, like torrone, but instead it crumbled all over me and the car seat. Chris gave me the look that he gives me when he feels that I deserve to be covered in crumbs for getting distracted by food when he is in a hurry, and for being such a pig that I will open the package to eat it in the car before we get there.



It is a bit strange at first -- like the first time you have tahini all by itself (which, it turns out, is in this) -- but I really like it. Chris doesn't. I think it has a sweet, roasted nut flavor, and I like the texture. I like that it isn't overly sweet, but just enough. I also like that you can keep it wrapped on your countertop for an apparently long period of time, while you slowly chip away at it, unmolested by your sweets-mongering husband.