Physically, I begin by sniffing the chocolate, usually for at least thirty seconds. I bring it right up next to my nose and breathe deeply. My breath gradually warms up the surface of the chocolate and disturbs the heavier volatile compounds. Then I put a piece in my mouth and suck on it until it's melted most of the way, which takes about a minute. After that I chew the chocolate. I usually eat four small pieces total, and I usually let each piece warm in my mouth at least a little before chewing it. This takes me between three and ten minutes.

Temporally, I break the tasting into three phases: Nose, mouth, and reflection.

"Nose" is whatever's going on before I put the chocolate in my mouth. "Mouth" is whatever's going on after I've put the chocolate in my mouth. (I don't often bother trying to distinguish between "scents" and "flavors".)

"Reflection" is what I write after I've swallowed the chocolate, and it's where I step away from the immediate sensory experiences a little to talk about how the chocolate impacted me overall, or anything else that's going on in my mind as a result. If I really loved or really hated a chocolate, "Reflection" is where I'll say so. I at least somewhat avoid high-level judgements and stories in earlier phases of tasting, in an attempt to stay open to the sensations themselves.

Psychologically (which is, of course, the fun part), there are five periods.

They have a sort of sequence and rhythm, but they do not always unfold with perfect linearity. Sometimes I loop back to an earlier period, when I want to focus on something else or to find my bearings.

There is always an acquaintance period. I close my eyes and focus on my experience of the chocolate, clearing out a space for it and watching for the first sensations to spring up. I'll usually note a few short and fairly literal words: "Sweet", "bitter", "rich".

Next is a sinking in, where I become aware of more subtle features of the experience. This happens by patiently waiting with soft focus. I usually end up saying something during this part about how the chocolate makes me feel.

Third is wandering. I boot up my imagination and just watch what happens, letting my mind wander in contact with the chocolate, as though we're going on a stroll while holding hands. I end up with flashes of images, textures, motions, sounds. "A smooth stone." "A child." "A field."

Fourth is filling in. Having found a few pieces of images, I begin to flesh them out and modify them so that they more closely match my experience of the chocolate. If there was "coolness", I ask myself what sort of coolness. Cool like snow? A cool breeze? Given a prompt like this, my imagination usually takes off, filling in a detailed scene or setting that resonates with my experience: "Cool like the water five feet down in a pond. Cool like shade beneath the moving branches." Once I have the seed of an image, it's fun and easy to feel my way toward versions of it that fit my experience of the chocolate.

Once I'm satisfied, it's time for reflection, where I step back and take note of whatever stands out in the aftermath of the experience. I often don't know how I feel about a chocolate overall before I get to this point.