FIRST DATE

CINNAMON AND CHOCOLATE MEET CUTE, THEN GO FOR A STROLL THROUGH THE MOST TENDER, SWIRLED LOAF—HOLLYWOOD ENDING GUARANTEED.

- LEAH ESKIN

Babka is a Jewish bakery stapletraditionally dairyfree, but rich and buttery in modern renditions like this one.

His T-shirt read “Little Feat,” an unfamiliar name, likely imported from late-night radio.

He had a shy smile, strong shoulders, and status as a senior. In the Friday afternoon bus exhaust, he asked if I wanted to “do something.” I did. I'd never been on a date. Saturday evening, he dropped by. I'd heard about boys: obsessed with one thing. And it proved true. He could barely lift his gaze from the quiches I'd left cooling on the kitchen island. (In those days, quiche was compulsory—as was weekend stockpiling. I was the family's sole vegetarian.) He tried a few come-ons. Even: “Those sure look tasty.”

We drove downtown for a movie called Bread and Chocolate. Same fixation? Or maybe easy access; after school he worked the box office. In the dark, we brushed fingertips while an Italian immigrant suffered Swiss scorn. Distracted by the title, I missed most of the subtitles. Bread sliced up tender and savory. Chocolate melted lush and sweet. The two seemed incompatible. Could they meld?