Well, here’s a true story, and I am not making it up one bit. Ok, it is mostly true.
Many years ago, way before you were a thought, there lived a lady named Ruth Wakefield. She looked exactly like this:
Ruth was a happy-go-lucky woman without a care in the world. She dreamed of chocolate cakes and perfectly moist cookies sprinkled with just the right amount of confectioners sugar. Folk traveled from all over the world to taste her delicious desserts at the Toll House Inn, owned by her chubby little husband, Kenneth. One day, disaster struck. As part of her daily routine, Ruth created an industrial sized batch of cookie dough. She pried open her cabinet and reached for the required amount of baker’s chocolate and lo! There was none to be found!
Ruth was beside herself with anger and self-doubt. She cursed the day she ever stepped into a kitchen wearing her red itchy apron, stained with cookie dough and splattered with egg yolks (she and Kenneth occasionally held food fight festivals at the inn. It was good for business). She recalled with horror the day she splurged on extra sharp kitchen knives. She cried and she hollered, yet none of her antics helped her to create the essential item she so desired – baker’s chocolate.
Seeing that the baking fairy had abandoned her, indefinitely, Ruth turned inward, realizing the need for improvisation. She took out her guitar and sang to the Spirits of Baking, who are known to help singing bakers. But alas, the spirits, too, had abandoned Ruth in her time of need.
In disgust, Ruth grabbed the nearest bar of Nestle’s semi-sweet chocolate, chopped it up into small morsels, and baked her cookies. “To hell with it all!” She hollered at no one in particular. She expected the pieces of chocolate to melt into the cookie dough just like baker’s chocolate. However, the chocolate did not melt. The small morsels retained their individuality, yet became moist and gooey.
Ruth served the cookies fearfully. To her surprise, the guests were enthralled by the cookies and begged her for more. She dutifully baked 70 more batches and fed them to her ravenous guests. Her guests gained 10 pounds each over the weekend, and became addicted to chocolate. Ten are still alive to tell the story. I’m just kidding, they all died of old age.
And that is how chocolate chips were created.