Tucker's - Hooksett, NH (5/10)

The world is an ordinary place, and I am left wondering whether this cup of hot chocolate is a cause or just a symptom of that state.

March 1, 2019

It is incredibly rare for me to say any variation of, “I love that place! It’s so close to my house!” That miniscule circle encompasses Applebee’s, the 99, and Tucker’s. When I entered the restaurant with a group of coworkers for some corporate-mandated team bonding, I expected the meal to be standard, as it always is in a one-pony place like this. My friend Clorese immediately shattered that expectation along with the coffee mug that she dropped while we stood waiting for our table. Though she was, of course, extremely embarrassed, she could not have known that that simple act of chaos in my normally ordinary world would become the catalyst to something amazing.

I found myself thinking about that broken mug while I waited for my order to arrive. It was orange, I think. A beautifully ordinary piece that crumbled and splattered its white ceramic insides across the tiles filthy from coffee-aroma mornings rushing on sensible footwear- the grout was probably white, too, once upon a time. To us the crash was a memory, a significant event, but to the harried servers and dime-a-dozen retirees hunched over homemade hash browns it was nothing but a minor blip in the radar of that ordinary chaos.

I did not think about it at the time, but I realize the irony that when they brought out my hot chocolate, it too had shattered. Its speckled brown guts were splashed along the side for everyone to judge, a hack job poured with love, a one-star Yelp review waiting to manifest. In that moment, I understand now, the server was not handing me a cup of hot cocoa, but of power. A few strokes of my keyboard and that beloved little locally-owned chain would go the way of so many before it, crumbling under the bootheels of suburban disdain, and Tucker’s would be but a footnote in the history of companies whose one offhand mistake toppled everything they’d worked to build.

Thankfully, I am not the type to complain. I accepted my hot chocolate, tatters and all, because it was still perfectly edible, and I’m not some asshole who doesn’t know how to use a napkin.

Initial impression: The serving was more than decent compared to the reasonable price, though most things are in a place like Tucker’s. I allowed the whipped cream to melt into the frosty first layer, both cooling down the liquid and sending me off with a smooth, toothache-sweet start. It was an easy temperature right off the bat, the kind of feat normally accomplished only with ice cubes, but with none of the watery side effects. As I came down from that first sip, I detected a hint, just the barest whisper of something that might have been a wisp of hazelnut, but before I could understand what was happening it was gone like smoke in my fingers.

Further reflection: My joy was dashed when, once I got past the initial layer of cream, there wasn’t a whole lot of flavor left. It was semisweet, smooth and just on the edge of dark, but mostly just… liquid. It’s like they went all in on the “hot” and forgot to add the “chocolate” part until the very last minute (maybe that’s why it exploded? I never got a formal explanation for that). Every few sips I would get a whiff of vanilla cream, but for the most part I was floating in a sea of warm, filtered nothingness.

Thankfully, the odd flavor did not detract from that of my meal. I had the meat lovers skillet with toast, and I found that the hot chocolate neither impaired nor enhanced the food, which is quite an accomplishment considering that in my experience most chocolatey beverages do the former. As I approached the bottom of the mug, I felt the flavor regaining a bit of fullness, a bit more pizazz, probably because I was stirring up the dregs. While I understand that gravity is a crucial component of life on Earth, I am never impressed by a beverage whose most flavorful elements tend to float to the bottom of their vessel.

Final thoughts: This hot chocolate experience concluded in the exact opposite way in which it began: decisively, and with a bland, unnoteworthy decrescendo. While the flavor never quite embraced its full capacity for deliciousness, it was not an unenjoyable drink. For this reason only I am giving it as high a score as I am.

If you’re ever in the Manchester area and don’t feel like taking advantage of the city’s many conveniently located coffee shops and diners, I recommend taking a stroll over to Tucker’s for New Hampshire’s (so far) most okay cup of hot chocolate. Take a moment to admire the takeout window left over from when it was a Burger King fifteen years ago. If you happen to be waiting for a table and notice the complimentary coffee next to the host stand, take a moment to reflect on my friend Clorese and the act of casual clumsiness that turned an otherwise ordinary morning into a memory. And hey, if you know Clorese, tell her congratulations because she (like everyone else on my Facebook feed) just got married. She’s a good kid.