One of my favorite chocolate shops in the whole world (ok, I’ve only seen part of the world, but still!) serves something called frozen hot chocolate. Now, before you make the mistake of thinking that frozen hot chocolate is exactly what it sounds like, let me assure you – it is not!
This frozen hot chocolate involves a generous scoop of their cold ganache made from single-origin two ingredient dark chocolate and cream, blended to perfection with ice. Topped with even more (whipped) cream.
It is heaven.
And, as if that isn’t enough, with it they hand you a sweet little bite of beautiful chocolate shortbread in a delicate glassine envelope.
No explanation. No upsell. No cost. Just lagniappe.
What’s lagniappe (lan – yap) you ask? Great question.
My friend Susan, a Texan by way of Mississippi, said it to me in conversation a couple months ago and I had no idea what she was talking about. She described it as an extra something you’re not expecting.
I did some internet searching and found this, posted by someone named Aaron on the internet on an English usage site in 2014:
“I would say that you could use [lagniappe] today to describe a gift of food or alcohol given above usual and customary monetary compensation. To a babysitter whom you’d already paid and tipped you could offer a pie to take home as a lagniappe. I think the fact that it is free food or drink is essential to meaning. Anything else and it might be something, but it isn’t lagniappe.”
They went on to say “I emailed my old Cajun friend on Facebook who let me know three things about a lagniappe. 1) after your business is done and settled and nothing more is expected from anyone you can give lagniappe 2) whether you are buying or selling you can give lagniappe 3) lagniappe is anything frivolous or decadent, but usually sweet or intoxicating.”
Lagniappe (and the chocolate shortbread cookie!) only happen after the expectation is already settled. The tab is paid. The exchange is over.
That’s what makes it feel generous instead of manipulative.
Generous instead of manipulative.
Diane Barth, Ph D, reminds us: “Small gifts, freely given, are like magic for both parties. For the giver, the contributions feel authentic and genuine because there are no strings attached. It’s easier to give because you’re not manipulating or promoting, you’re being helpful. The receiver, sensing this, isn’t burdened by the weight of an obligation, and the gift no longer feels like an unwanted transaction.”
So, how can we practice our own version of lagniappe?
Here are four simple ways:
Give without circling back.
Not everything needs a thank-you or a perfect reaction. Sometimes generosity is doing the kind thing and not needing anyone to notice. Not tracking. Not keeping score.
Add something tiny but thoughtful.
It could be a short text. A little treat. A post-it note. A card in the mail. A kind word on the way out. Something that takes less than 60 seconds but says, “I’m thinking of you.”
Offer what’s easy for you but helpful to someone else.
Maybe we’re good at calming people down. Or remembering names. Or bringing snacks. Or organizing messy stuff. What feels small to us might feel like a huge relief to someone else.
Be generous with interpretation.
When someone’s short with us. When the email is weird. When the kid is loud. Tend toward a softer read. Assume tired, not rude. Hurt, not cruel. Distracted, not clueless. A little grace can go a long way.
Maybe the best things in us – comfort, warmth, ease – are best revealed when we decide to be generous, just for generosity’s sake.
I can’t wait to hear about how your own version of lagniappe is affecting your own sphere of influence. And if you need help with enhancing your generosity toward others, I’d love to help. But first I need to make some chocolate shortbread cookies.
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