“Are you familiar with the poem ‘Footprints in the Sand’?” Dario asks.
“I don’t think so,” Charlie says.
“It’s a religious poem. My family is very Catholic. Orwasbefore… I don’t practice, but the poem has always stuck with me,” Dario says. “It’s about a man who walks along a beach and sees scenes from his life. Through most of it, there are two sets of footprints in the sand on his journey, but during the lowest and hardest moments of his life there is only one. He asks, ‘I don’t understand why, when I needed you the most, you would leave me.’ God says, ‘When you saw only one set of footsteps, it was then that I carried you.’ Sounds like that’s the kind of relationship your grandparents have.”
“It’s the kind of relationship my parents have, too,” he says before turning back to his computer screen. Charlie finalizes the layout of his wrapper by choosing a font and sends it to the printer. Since the worker is still busy flirting with Ansel who is leaning in, towering over her with all the smarm of a businessman, Dario grabs the chocolate from the pile and the paper hot off the press, then delicately wraps and seals it shut.
“For you,” he says, hand outstretched. “A keepsake.”
And he’s not sure why just yet, but Charlie knows he’s going to treasure this single chocolate bar forever.
SEVEN
DARIO
Giving a tour of the Amorina Chocolate Factory feels natural, even after the time away. Dario’s heart beats in time with the careful words he shares with his potential suitors. Every time he reengages with the history of this place, his passion for the family business ratchets up, as does his pride for the work he wants to do for the rest of his life.
Easier said than done when a wedding stands between him and his destiny.
They are a little over an hour in, and he has already lost two participants, which feels like a bad sign. Selina is surely off in the café already, editing the perfect picture to post. Ansel, who Dario thinks is handsome in a way he does not want to admit to himself, stayed behind with Chiara since he never made his custom chocolate bar. Dario tries not to take Ansel’s overt flirtation with Chiara to heart. Again, this all comes with no expectation, and he is a modern queer man who understands that interest in another doesn’t mean lack of interest in him.
“Our next stop is all about Amorina’s appearance through the ages,” he explains to the remaining trio. They enter a roomplastered in old advertisements and blown-up, colorful images of Amorina boxes from years past. “Our famous packaging has undergone subtle changes over the years but the central image of the fuchsia heart with the chocolate drizzle has remained a constant.”
Some families have a coat of arms; the Cotognas have this—a chocolate-covered heart that represents over a century’s worth of love and legacy.
Earlier in the day, before he took his private car to the factory, Dario opened Cosimo Sr.’s day two letter, which was entirely on theme.
Caro Tesorino,
In any new venture, the first step is always the hardest.
The story of my grandparents’ love affair cemented itself long ago. The love notes in the wrappers have found purchase in the minds of candy lovers all over the world. Did you know that the story is not true?
Take a moment to catch your breath.
They had passed notes back and forth on empty wrappers out of a want to not waste paper, which I know you’ll appreciate given your fervid passion for sustainability, but they weren’t love notes. They did not do it because they were so passionate about each other that they simply had to get the words down before they died on their tongues. It was covert, the messages were urgent, and the wrappers were there.
The truth lies mostly in that my nonna made the first move. After years of dancing around the topic and many business partners not wanting to associate with an unmarried woman in the workforce, my nonnamade a batch of her chocolate the old-school way and incorporated quince fruit into the bar.
Inside the wrapper she wrote: I’d like to marry my recipe with your last name.
They were not pawing at one another. They were not madly in love. They were companions and business partners who liked each other’s company and sought to expand their opportunities through matrimony.
This, however, does not make for particularly good marketing copy.
They took bits and pieces and crafted an angle around it.
Through that angle and that marriage, love grew, deeply and truly.
Love is not always the aperitivo. Sometimes it’s the digestivo.
You’ve opened your home to new people. Are you ready to open your heart as well?
Con affetto,
Nonno
The letter pops back into mind as he shows his guests to the next interactive exhibit:Make Your Mark-eting.After watching several television commercials for Amorina chocolate dating back through the 1960s, a staff member invites everyone to grab a prop, step in front of the green screen and try their hand at playing the Amorina spokesperson.
