For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved chocolate. The smooth velvety texture of a really good chocolate cake makes me salivate just thinking about it. I never really paid much attention to the whys or the wherefores when I was younger but as I got older and became aware of dreaded things like calories, diets and weight gain, I tried to divest myself of the urge to scarf down mounds of the stuff whenever I felt like it.
I’m not really that fussy about the stuff – milk, plain or really dark chocolate – the only thing I’ve never been overly keen on is white chocolate. There have been times when I would describe that I’ve suffered from the choc horrors, usually on a Sunday afternoon, when the thought of sinking my teeth into something that’s made of solid chocolate has become unbearably irresistible and I have sat there on occasion, going through a menu in my head of whatever may be available at the local shop or supermarket. Or at the local petrol station (before we had Sunday trading) and have been known to beat down there clutching my purse and would fill a basket with as much chocolatey goodness as I could lay my hands on and then come home, unwrap and chomp, chomp, chomp until I was sated. Or sick. Whichever came first. It had to be one or the other.
Miraculously, back in 2012, when my brain sank into “get fitter” mode, my love of chocolate waned. I no longer wanted to clear the shelves of everything sweet in my local supermarket on passing and was able to wander past with an air of disinterested disdain at all the baked goods. Nobody was more surprised than myself, believe me! And so it lasted for quite a while and I believe that I finally managed to break my chocolate addiction. At least briefly.
It has raised its head on more than one occasion. Numerous occasions, if the truth be told. At one point I realised that magnesium, of all supplements, seemed to enable me to rein it in somewhat. It makes sense really – good chocolate is a source of magnesium and the fact that I didn’t always buy the good chocolate meant that particular physical need was probably never fully met. At least, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.
This last couple of days, however, have been extremely trying for me. I keep seeing this picture in my head of a gooey chocolate fudge cake. It has been taunting me. And it’s wearing a hat of fresh thick double cream. I’ve previously been able to erase this picture with a couple of squares of 80% dark chocolate but, today, it’s really not doing the trick and that means the internal eternal argument has once again struck up in my head. On the one hand, there’s the adult that knows I just need to get through this. On the other hand, the inner child is having a full blown, foot stamping tantrum and not getting her own way.
And so I blog. In the hope that it’ll take me long enough to finish this entry that this terrible longing will do one and leave me in peace.
Apologies if any of you reading now have the image of an irresistible chocolate fudge cake in your head. Well, I’m not sorry really. I hate to suffer alone …