One day I was in the UK. Yes, Merry Olde England. I went into Sainsburys for some of their house brand dark chocolate, a nice rich mellow taste with an undertone of cinnamon it seemed. They were out. I stood there stunned. What was a chocolate hound to do? I asked the desk. None till tomorrow. RATS. I went back to the shelves to see if I had missed any. Nope.
Crestfallen, I thought and thought what to do. There was plain milk chocolate, baby chocolate it is called disdainfully by us chocolate hounds. I couldn’t get back to the store for three days so I got several of the puny bars. One was even Nestle’s Crunch. I tried to pull my cap down farther over my head so no one would recognize me buying milk chocolate. I slunk out, sadly shamed.
There was little joy on the ride to the house. It might be a week before I could get some REAL chocolate. I walked inside, opened the Crunch and had a bite. Hmm. Not all that bad really. Nice solid chocolate, some Rice Crispies too. I thought, “This is almost a meal itself, milk, chocolate and Rice Crispies.” Darn thing was good too. I ate the whole bar by the next day and looked around for the other milk chocolate bars.
Then it struck me. I am a chocoholic. Not some connoisseur of rich dark chocolate: exquisite truffles, fudge or brownies. Just any old chocolate was fine really. M & Ms started looking tasty. Why even chocolate chips are pretty good and priced right too.
Well, that’s all the shame I can handle for now. I will keep you posted on further ravings of a plain gutter chocoholic.
Copyright 2007 by Robin Hall
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment