Coincidences

A recipe from a friend of a friend of a friend's mother—direct to you.

The first week I moved to Monterey, California, I went to a cafe, ordered a coffee, and opened my laptop. After perhaps five minutes, a retired woman walked up to me with her husband and asked “Have you ever been to Virginia?”

“I’m from Virginia” I said, with a kind of shocked stammer.

I probably should've been scared, or incredulous, but they were both friendly and kind—and full of a kind extroverted energy.

She continued, saying that she thought she had seen me in Charlottesville, and I of course replied that Charlottesville was my hometown, and expressed surprise that she remembered me, and shock that we had met, in this little cafe, one of many in the town, and one of tens of thousands in the state, which itself was 2,500 miles away from the Old Dominion.

“We both thought you look like our Grandson” she continued.

I began to ask them about their story, and, in a twist of fate, this couple happened to have a house both in my hometown and in Carmel, just across from Monterey, happened to have seen me at cafes in both locations, happened to remember me, and also had the courage to say hello.

Last Christmas, the chain of coincidences deepened even further. My friends from Carmel came to our family Christmas party and brought some homemade chocolate desserts. I thought they were lovely, and asked for a recipe. It turns out, my own friends from California—who I met purely by chance—also had somewhat randomly got the recipe from the mother of a friend of a friend, back in the 80s.

Enjoying the dessert by the fireplace, Christmas lights still shining, I thought about the chain of events that had to occur for me to enjoy the treat.

1) Sometime before or just after I was born, a couple I would meet more than three decades later, had a dessert made by the mother of a friend of a friend.

2) They liked it enough to get the recipe,

3) They kept it all those years, without losing it.

4) We both went to a cafe in Charlottesville, at precisely the right time.

5) I met my ex girlfriend, who eventually did Masters at a University in California, which led to me moving there.

6) The retired couple and I both went to one specific cafe in California, at precisely the right time.

7) The retired couple had the courage or desire to talk to me. After all, they could've just said "wow, that's the guy from Virginia" and left it at that.

8) They happened to make it for our Christmas party in Charlottesville, decided to make that specific recipe, and I asked for it.

Pretty cool right?

It's a reminder that coincidences involve a long chain of events, and every lucky break in our lives is contingent on many things we can't control. And while we can't control the initial coincidences that come into our lives, we can propel them forward.

Let's extend fate one more level:

I am (with their permission) sharing the recipe for all of you to enjoy.

From the kitchen of someone I will never meet, the mother of a friend of a friend of a couple I met by chance in California because they saw me at a cafe in Virginia—the recipe is now in your hands.

And whether you signed up for this newsletter by accident or are forwarded this by a friend, or indeed know me in real life—however it happened, the recipe can now, if you choose, be a part of your own life.

And that's kind of beautiful.

If anyone makes these, please share a photo or email me. I’d love to forward it to my friends in California.

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P.s. I’ve been told by a reputable source that if you don’t add paraffin to the chocolate, add extra chocolate—Ghirardelli is recommended.

Please feel free to add any interesting coincidences you’ve experienced in the comments! - Alex