Confessions of a rampant Nutella junkie

Of all forms of temptation to sin, I think chocolate is what turns me on the most without foreplay. Honey colored slabs of glossy, firm milk chocolate; tiny white chocolate pralines; snapping bars of dark, bitter chocolate; choco-coated coffee beans. I can’t resist. As a rampant chocoaddict, I'm forced to indulge, greater forces moving me.
Nutella, a delicious creamy spread staple that has marked generations of Italian children with premature lust, unwanted calories and acne, is today’s drug of choice. On this rainy Roman day, we Nutellaholics celebrate its pure spreadable joy.

Many chocolatiers produce their own nutella-like products, but nothing beats the original contained in the trademark stout glass jar with white screw cap or the mismatched tumblers with the snap top boasting the same 70’s red and black label. The unchanged illustration below the logo is a steadfast Italian icon. Mid afternoon merenda snack meant thick slices of crusty bread slathered with Nutella and a guaranteed energy boost capable of orbiting us to Pluto.

Today, February 5th, 2009 – World Nutella Day – I officiate as Nutella High Priestess (E is way too small for such mundane and Dionysian pleasures). I solemnly jab a hole in the gilded seal, cerimoniously tearing it open. The ciabatta is warming in the oven, and the ecstasy of thrusting just-washed fingers in the virgin tranquil sea of its surface is the prelude to a lustful moment of private Nutella plenty.

Here is a recipe I want to share as a sign of grateful thanks for Michelle of Bleeding Espresso and Sara of Ms Adventures in Italy, for proclaiming and instituting World Nutella Day.
Grazie, mie care sorelle!

Quantities for 4 Nutella Virgins (or 1 aficionado):
250gr (1 1/4 cups) whipping cream
2 tsp confectioner’s sugar, sifted
3 tbsp Nutella, or more to taste

If you are among those who store half opened jars of Nutella in the refrigerator, please refrain from reading any further. This means that a) you actually manage to have any left over, and b) you show no respect for Nutella’s signature creamy nature. In both cases you win my distrust.

Whip the cream with the confectioner’s sugar until quite firm. Add the Nutella, blending it softly with a wooden spoon in round, loving motions. NOW refrigerate the combined elements of your pseudo-mousse for 15 minutes, if you can resist.
Can be left plain or garnished with sifted bitter Dutch cocoa, a cinnamon stick and a few mint leaves before applying to face.