Chocolate Mug Cake & Love



The Marco Polo production sent a hair stylist from LA to re-measure my head just in case it grew or shrank since the last season. One could never take anything for granted in making the perfect wig.  A mold of my head was made out of saran wrap and Scotch tape and then my hairline was drawn on it so the wig maker will know exactly where everything is. 

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Things seem to be gearing up for Season 2, and I’m anxious to read the scripts, which should come my way this week.  We will be filming in Hungary, Malaysia and New Zealand — places that are all excitingly exotic and very far from home.  This is the bonus and hardship of this business — I get to travel to exciting places and stay there long enough to truly experience the local life, but at the same time I will also feel terribly homesick and guilty for leaving Peter and the girls for so long. 

The only reason that I could continue to go on location shoots was because I married a solid and supportive man.  Peter has been the most wonderful father and husband that anyone could imagine.  Though he has never complained, I know it could not have been easy to have his wife and the mother of his children to be away for months on end.  For me, love has little to do with Christmas gifts or birthday parties.  Love is the consistent support of the other person’s growth and contentment, day in and day out, good days and bad days.  When I tried to tell Angela that the most important thing in one’s life is to find the right spouse, she sneered and told me to shut up as if I’d said the most asinine thing in the world.  Of course if my mother told me this when I was 16, I also would have ignored her.  I had to learn it the hard way — like everyone else.  That is the only way to learn about love.


Angela is too young and too single-mindedly focused on her academics to understand that amongst all things in life, love is the most difficult.  As Rilke wrote in his Letters to a Young Poet, “… [love] is the most difficult task that is set us, the ultimate thing, the final trial and test, the work for which all other work is only preparation.” 

According to Rilke, all things worthwhile are difficult and “the fact that a thing is difficult must be one more reason for our doing it.”  From my own experience I know that to be true, but I also find certain very worthy things to be extremely easy.  They may be insignificant in the grand scale of life, but worthwhile nevertheless for the uplifting pleasure that they bring.  In the case of these chocolate mug cakes, worthiness is not at all measured by its level of difficulty. You can make them in 5 minutes and they are the perfect afternoon pick-me-up.  

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One-minute Chocolate Mug Cake


3 tbsp flour wholewheat flour (24g)

1 tsp 100 % cocoa powder (7g)

2 tbsp chocolate chips from 85% dark chocolate bar

1/8 tsp salt

1/4 tsp baking powder

2 tsp sugar OR xylitol 

3 tbsp milk of choice

2 1/2 tsp oil (or mashed banana if you like the texture of fat-free baked goods)

1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract

3 tbsp mashed banana or 8 thawed frozen cherries

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Grease a mug or 1-cup ramekin and set aside. (If using the oven, preheat to 350 F.) In a cereal bowl, stir all dry ingredients together fully. Add all remaining ingredients except the 3 tbsp banana and stir. Pour half the batter into the greased mug, then make a well in the middle with your spoon. Fill the well with the 3 tbsp banana, then smooth the rest of the batter on top.

Either microwave 50-70 seconds (depending on microwave wattage) OR bake in the oven for 13-14 minutes. If you don’t want to eat the cake straight from the dish, be sure to wait for it to cool completely before trying to remove from the dish.

Adapted from chocolatecoveredkatie

2 thoughts on “Chocolate Mug Cake & Love

  1. I hope you get to eat some Southeast Asian food in Malaysia. You may see a similar form of this Southern Sumatran cuisine I describe in “The Missionary Position:”
    “…The Padang recipes they brought from Southern Sumatra were thermonuclear hot. All their restaurants’ picture windows displayed the same innocent-looking pyramid of small white dishes filled with the same cold, colorful food waiting to incinerate the insides of anyone stupid enough to believe his eyes. Bright-hot hunks of beef in a red-umber rendang sauce swam next to scrawny, peppered yellow chicken parts while leafy, green and gold vegetables smoldered between greasy tubes of shiny, orange okra. Golden-green curried eggs floated in a milky soup camouflaging incendiary yolks next to shiny, orange and white striped, buttered prawns in a day-glow sauce that defied description. The only sign of relief was a big, round aluminum pot filled with benign white rice squatting between cylindrical containers of krupuk, the soothing shrimp crackers that accompanied any Indonesian meal…”


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