death by chocolate

It’s a few minutes until the clock chimes 1 O’clock am. I’m pleased to announce that I have already had an hour or two of sleep. I just thought I would pop out of bed for a quick swig of apple-cider-vinegar and boiling water. It’s one of the most shiveringly healing substances I’ve discovered.

I wouldn’t be awake right now if it hadn’t been for some ‘risk taking’ I fell into this afternoon. I say ‘fell’ because it would seem it was an accident, I got carried away as all self discipline and caution left my side.

I declared I would not eat chocolate this Easter.

No bunnies, no caramel eggs, no lindt, no cadbury. No, I would be a true dietary martyr and bask in the knowledge that my restraint had avoided me feeling unwell.

This afternoon, my husband and I headed down to Chapel Street for some deliciously satisfying opp shopping. I had a brief love affair with a fur hat, a pair of leather shoes a tad too big, a rabbit pom-pom beret, and a red woollen dress – the latter being the only beloved that I actually brought home. My husband poked around the pictures, the old rings, the books, and advised with all the honesty that only a man can, when things didn’t suit me. He kept spying sweet treats, and making deals that after one more shop we would sit down and eat something tasty.

We passed a place called Chocolateria San Churro’s , with the words ,’sweeten thy soul’ in calligraphy on the front window. That was enough for Ben, but I wasn’t convinced until I saw a couple outside eating what looked like a bite of paradise. We both half ran inside.

I still had some restraint while looking at the drinks menu. I would have a decaffeinated latte with soy milk. That’s right, no sugar, no dairy, no caffine... the trouble arose over by the counter when gazing into the cakes shelf.  My beady eyes instantly located the luxury I had seen being consumed outside, and my equally sweet-toothed husband saw it too. We did toy with the idea of some lemon meringue, or a brownie – but I feel for both of us this was just a brief pretence of reasonable decision making. We had both inwardly made our final choice.

“We’d like a piece of Death by Chocolate”, we declared to the waitress.

Waiting for its arrival at our table, Ben pointed out that for me, it really could be ‘death by chocolate’. At that moment it dawned on me that he was terribly and frighteningly correct. So I began justifications – it’s Easter, this is definitely worth the risk, tomorrow can be awful so long as we enjoy today...anyway, my psych thinks I should do more risk taking.

Death arrived. It was dark, as expected, and layered and there were more pure chocolate and cream sections than there were cake. We plunged our forks into the dairy laiden, sugar oozing delight and enjoyed the texture and happy feelings on our taste buds. We were going strong. It wasn’t long before Ben regretted ordering his hot chocolate – just far too much chocolate, he said. He wished he’d been as wise as me and bought a latte to wash it down. I was starting to feel a certain heaviness, as though the chocolate had reached the top of my throat. I lay my head on his shoulder.  This cake was hard work; we should have eaten it before we’d spent our strength on shopping. We weren’t half way through our shared monstrosity, and already we were playing with our forks content to just look at it. For two master sugar consumers, we had really been conquered.

Next, we began planning dinner. “I think we should just eat the rest of the roast chicken, and broccoli,” said Ben and I agreed with all my heart. Broccoli, what a refreshing vegetable. I longed for it just as I had longed for the cake half an hour before.

“And we should both take a vitamin C, and drink a mug of apple-cider-vinegar tea.” I suggested.  

We both hoped that these home remedies would be the antidote to death. I wished I’d brought a hip flask of potent cures, in the unlikely event of succumbing to serious temptation.

Eventually we felt well enough to leave the cafe, and asked to take home our cake in a carry bag. I’m not sure that it was a good idea. We mentioned dying again another day soon, perhaps Monday. I think I might just leave that to Ben.