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Coconut Chocolate Covered Cherries — The Night Jason Made the Call

Jason started seeing a therapist. He told me over dinner — adobo, because apparently all significant conversations in our relationship happen over adobo, which tracks because adobo is the foundation of my existence and the backdrop of my emotional life. He said, "I called someone. A counselor. Through the department." He said it casually, the way you mention an oil change, but his eyes were watching me for a reaction, the way patients watch nurses for a reaction to their labs.

My reaction: pride. Fierce, immediate, almost painful pride. Because I know what it takes to make that call. I know the pride you swallow, the vulnerability you expose, the admission that you need help being contained in a phone number you dial with shaking hands. I know because I made that call — or rather, Angela made it for me, because I was on the floor and couldn't. Jason made it standing up. Jason made it before the floor. Jason is ahead of me, and the aheadness makes me proud in a way that hurts because it's mixed with the memory of my own lateness, my own floor, my own three hours of not-standing that could have been prevented if I'd made the call sooner.

I said, "I'm glad." He said, "You showed me it was possible." The sentence sat between us like a third serving of adobo — rich, heavy, full of things that words approximate but can't capture. I showed him it was possible. My breakdown, my PTSD, my sertraline, my blog about cooking as therapy — all of it, the wreckage and the rebuilding — showed another person that asking for help is not weakness but intelligence. The floor taught someone something. The floor that I thought was the worst thing that ever happened to me taught a man I love to ask for help before he hit his own floor.

I made maja blanca that night — coconut pudding, sweet and cool, the dessert that requires no occasion and celebrates nothing except the existence of coconut milk and the willingness to stir for twenty minutes. The pudding set in the fridge while Jason watched a movie and I sat next to him and thought about floors and phone calls and the chain of help that extends from Angela finding me to Jason finding a therapist, the chain that proves that recovery is not private, recovery is contagious, recovery spreads from kitchen to kitchen and person to person like a recipe shared online.

The maja blanca was sweet. The evening was good. Jason is getting help. The chain extends. The recipe travels.

I made maja blanca that night because coconut milk is what I reach for when something matters and I don’t have words big enough to hold it — but in the days after, when the sweetness of that evening kept coming back to me, I found myself wanting to make something I could share, something that travels, something that could be handed to another person and carry a little of what I felt. These Coconut Chocolate Covered Cherries do exactly that: they are coconut and sweetness wrapped around something small and bright, the kind of thing you make not for an occasion but because the chain of help deserves a confection it can ride.

Coconut Chocolate Covered Cherries

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes (plus 1 hour chilling) | Servings: 24 pieces

Ingredients

  • 24 maraschino cherries with stems, drained and patted dry
  • 1 cup sweetened shredded coconut
  • 4 oz cream cheese, softened
  • 1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
  • 1/2 teaspoon coconut extract
  • 10 oz dark or semi-sweet chocolate chips
  • 1 tablespoon coconut oil

Instructions

  1. Dry the cherries. Spread maraschino cherries on a paper-towel-lined tray and pat thoroughly dry. Any excess moisture will prevent the coating from adhering properly. Set aside.
  2. Make the coconut filling. In a medium bowl, beat the softened cream cheese until smooth. Add powdered sugar and coconut extract and mix until fully combined. Fold in the shredded coconut until the mixture comes together into a soft, moldable dough.
  3. Wrap each cherry. Scoop about 1 tablespoon of coconut filling into your palm and flatten it gently. Place one cherry in the center and wrap the filling up and around it, rolling it into a smooth ball with the stem poking out the top. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet.
  4. Chill the balls. Refrigerate the wrapped cherries for at least 30 minutes, or until firm. This step is essential — it keeps them from falling apart when dipped in chocolate.
  5. Melt the chocolate. Combine chocolate chips and coconut oil in a microwave-safe bowl. Microwave in 30-second intervals, stirring between each, until fully melted and smooth.
  6. Dip and set. Holding each ball by the stem, dip into the melted chocolate, letting excess drip off. Return to the parchment-lined sheet. Sprinkle with additional shredded coconut immediately if desired.
  7. Chill until firm. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes until the chocolate shell is fully set. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to one week.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 118 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 38mg

Grace Santos
About the cook who shared this
Grace Santos
Week 133 of Grace’s 30-year story · Anchorage, Alaska
Grace is a thirty-seven-year-old ER nurse in Anchorage, Alaska — Filipino-American, single, and the person her entire community calls when they need a hundred lumpia for a party or a shoulder to cry on after a hard shift. She cooks to cope with the things she sees in the emergency room, feeding her neighbors and her church and anyone who looks like they need a plate. Her adobo could bring peace to a warring nation. Her schedule could kill a lesser person.

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