The chocolate problem

One of the clear memories I have from my teens was around Christmas time, when the tree was up. My mum had knitted some small woollen socks that were hung on the tree. In each sock, she'd put one of two Quality Street sweets. Occasionally, I'd make the mistake of eating one. The purple one was a favourite, of course, and also those long thin toffee blocks covered in chocolate, but there weren't many at which I'd turn my nose up.

The reason that it was a mistake was that almost immediately, I'd want another one. Even now, I can remember that I wouldn't enjoy the second one as much. Having it was something I felt compelled to do. I knew my parents didn't approve of this desecration of the Christmas Tree, not least because we weren't supposed to help ourselves to things without asking. It was this disapproval that would make me feel dreadful if I succumbed to a third theft and that would definitely prevent a fourth.

I remember another time when this strange phenomenon manifested itself: I was watching Noel Edmond's Multicoloured Swap Shop one Saturday morning and I decided to take the three minute walk to Preedy's newsagents in the parade of shops at the end of the road, where I bought myself a Creme Egg. It was finished by the time I got home. After a while, I decided to go and get another one, which I did. Then I fancied a third one, except I didn't really, but I went and bought one all the same.

And then, in the most dramatic example of this bizarre cycle of chocolate consumption, one Christmas I ate a whole tin of Quality Street. My brother had bought my the latest Iain (possibly M) Banks novel for Christmas and I opted to stay at home and read that while the family went out on a visit. I settled myself on the sofa with the book and the tin of Quality Street. It was, hand on my heart, never my intention to eat the lot but I did. By the time I was halfway down the tin, I was having to wait for a mild nausea to subside between one chocolate and the next. Even now I find it hard to define in what sense I was enjoying them.

My life was genuinely revolutionised a few years ago when I read William Leith's 'The Hungry Years: Confessions of a Food Addict'. Suddenly, I could make sense of my relationship with carbohydrates and chocolate specifically. Of course, just understanding something does not present a miracle cure and I still succumb to the chocolate frenzy from time to time. I did, for example, finish the Toblerone in last Monday's post by the end of that week. I can sit in a room full of people eating chocolate without any problem but as soon as I have one piece, that's it.

I have, however, recently discovered the beauty featured in today's photo. It usually costs just over two quid at Booths but at the moment you can buy it for £1.50 and the whole bar only contains 4g of carbs! Although it is dark and bitter and about as far away as you can get from that gold standard of chocolate, Cadbury's Fruit and Nut, it absolutely satisfies the urge for chocolate or something sweet. Usually, three of four squares is ample. I'm guessing it contains a lot of whatever makes you feel good in chocolate without all the sugar. It could have been invented for me!