Cherry Chocolate Almond Energy Balls

Korean class ended for the semester this week. Our instructor, Minjae, held the final session over Zoom like all the sessions since March, twelve of us in our little boxes on screen, practicing our end-of-term dialogues. Mine was about ordering food at a restaurant ╬ôçö fitting, Minjae said, since I'd spent the whole semester steering every conversation exercise back to food. I can now order a meal in Korean, ask for the check, compliment the chef, and say "more kimchi, please" with what Minjae generously calls "enthusiastic pronunciation." I cannot discuss the weather, politics, or my feelings, which means my Korean is basically a restaurant phrasebook with legs. It's a start.

The thing about learning Korean at twenty-seven, as an adoptee, is that every word carries weight it wouldn't carry for a heritage speaker. When I learned the word for mother ╬ôçö eomma ╬ôçö I had to sit with it for a week. Whose mother? Which mother? The one who kept me or the one who let me go? The word doesn't know the difference. It just means mother, warm and round in the mouth, and I practiced it alone in the kitchen while James was on a work call, saying it to no one, letting it exist without attaching it to anyone yet.

Saturday I made tteokguk ╬ôçö rice cake soup, traditionally eaten on Lunar New Year but I wasn't waiting for January. Beef broth, sliced rice cakes like pale coins, egg ribbons, scallions. It's clean and simple, the kind of soup that tastes like starting over, which is probably why Koreans eat it to mark the new year. Each bowl ages you one year, the tradition says. I ate two bowls. I could use the aging ╬ôçö not older but further along, closer to whoever I'm becoming.

James is deep in end-of-year planning at Microsoft, which means he comes to bed at midnight smelling like cold coffee and stress. I leave a container of soup on his desk and he eats it between meetings. This is how we love each other right now ╬ôçö in containers left on desks, in the lights I string on the balcony, in the way he folds dumplings badly and I don't correct him. Pandemic love is logistics and leftovers and staying when the walls close in.

Kevin sent me a bag of his new holiday blend ╬ôçö dark roast, notes of chocolate and dried cherry. I brewed it Sunday morning and it was excellent and I texted him a photo of my cup and he sent back a thumbs up. Brothers.

When Kevin’s coffee arrived — dark roast, chocolate and dried cherry — and I tasted that combination in my cup Sunday morning, I kept thinking about it the rest of the day. It felt like a flavor I wanted to eat, not just drink. These cherry chocolate almond energy balls are what came out of that impulse: a few pantry staples rolled together into something that tastes a little like the end of Kevin’s holiday blend, something I could leave on James’s desk without a note, the way you do when love is logistics and the walls are close.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 45 min (includes chilling) | Servings: 18 balls

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1/2 cup almond butter (creamy, unsweetened)
1/3 cup honey or pure maple syrup
1/2 cup dried tart cherries, roughly chopped
1/2 cup dark chocolate chips (60% cacao or higher)
1/3 cup raw almonds, roughly chopped
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt

Instructions

Combine wet ingredients. In a large mixing bowl, stir together the almond butter, honey, and vanilla extract until smooth and fully incorporated.
Add dry ingredients. Add the rolled oats, chopped dried cherries, dark chocolate chips, chopped almonds, and sea salt to the bowl. Stir with a sturdy spatula or wooden spoon until everything is evenly coated and the mixture holds together when pressed. If it feels too dry, add a teaspoon of honey; if too wet, add a tablespoon of oats.
Chill the mixture. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes. This firms up the mixture and makes rolling much easier.
Roll into balls. Using a tablespoon or small cookie scoop, portion the mixture and roll between your palms into 1-inch balls. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet or plate as you go. You should get about 18 balls.
Set and store. Refrigerate the finished balls for at least 15 minutes before serving so they hold their shape. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 10 days, or freeze for up to 2 months.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cherry Chocolate Almond Energy Balls — A Little Sweetness for the Long Stretch