To be paid for food writing, you\u2019re required to sign a contract riddled with non-negotiables. Some are obvious\u2014caring about Ina Garten, treating ramp season like Christ\u2019s resurrection\u2014while others are more discreet (using the phrase \u201chaving a moment\u201d weekly). While I appease nearly all of these obligations (I need money), there\u2019s one I will not succumb to: pretending chocolate lava cake isn\u2019t an enjoyable meal-ending bite.<\/p>\n
Woah. Lava cake positivity. We haven\u2019t seen that sort of edge since Bourdain chastised sliders<\/em>. If the self-importance embedded within my lava endorsement provokes your inner monologue into ridicule and sarcasm\u2014same. But here\u2019s the problem: I\u2019m legally bound to construct this type of artificial controversy. Over the last few years, the big wigs at the recipe factories installed a Hot Take Addendum (HTA) into their writers\u2019 contracts\u2014a contingency clause that allows us to break non-negotiables so long as we treat our dissenting opinions with a geopolitical seriousness.<\/p>\n As you\u2019ve rightly noticed, these articles of resistance all sound the same. There\u2019s a reason for this: Within the HTA, lie numerous, company-approved, templates for headlines and copy. Many of these will be familiar to you, as common characteristics include: declaring that \u201cit\u2019s okay\u201d to have an unpopular opinion, telling someone why they \u201cshould\u201d be eating something, and attaching existential dread to commonly consumed groceries (like I did with canned cold brew<\/a>).<\/p>\n But back to lava cake: I love it. So much so that today I\u2019m honoring that love by employing my favorite HTA templates to flesh out the history and appeal of this classic Valentine\u2019s day dessert. See below.<\/p>\nIt\u2019s Okay To Love Lava Cake<\/h4>\n