I've given up sugar. And I don't just mean my debilitating addiction to Candy Crush. (Update for those wanting to know how that's going – I promised to give up as soon as I reached Level 100 and am currently stuck on Level 117..)
Anyway, I decided a while back that sugar is the devil and that the only way forward was zero tolerance. In my favour, if I don't have it, I don't miss it, as has been the case for the last couple of months, though I have occasionally caught myself sucking the sweetness out of the extra bottle of red wine I use to self-medicate.
Unfortunately, this week Anne has been wearing her bake-a thon head. The thing is, she cooks to share and this week saw a perfect storm with a hat-trick of opportunities – hosting her book club, a colleague's birthday and some do-gooding charity thing or other. Honestly, it's so selfish of her.
Her evil temptation started with a small round disc of cheese biscuit, which I succumbed to a) because they might actually be the very best thing she makes and b) because they're SAVOURY for crissakes. But soon she was pushing the heavy stuff. Here, finish this half a chocolate and blueberry muffin that's got stuck in its casing. Or You've got to try just a sliver of chocolate fridge cake, it's Felicity Cloake's. It wasn't long before we were sharing spoons.
And come 10pm last night, as her Book Club crowd floated off home on a sugar and prosecco high, I was backstage snorting blackberry frangipane and mainlining a chocolate marble coffee-cream death star. The shame this morning was palpable but didn't stop me from slathering home-made “meadow jelly” on my toast. This afternoon I've hit the inevitable rock-bottom - scouring the cupboards for cooking chocolate and glacé cherries. And the dog seems desperate for a trip to the newsagents...
Anyway, I decided a while back that sugar is the devil and that the only way forward was zero tolerance. In my favour, if I don't have it, I don't miss it, as has been the case for the last couple of months, though I have occasionally caught myself sucking the sweetness out of the extra bottle of red wine I use to self-medicate.
Unfortunately, this week Anne has been wearing her bake-a thon head. The thing is, she cooks to share and this week saw a perfect storm with a hat-trick of opportunities – hosting her book club, a colleague's birthday and some do-gooding charity thing or other. Honestly, it's so selfish of her.
Her evil temptation started with a small round disc of cheese biscuit, which I succumbed to a) because they might actually be the very best thing she makes and b) because they're SAVOURY for crissakes. But soon she was pushing the heavy stuff. Here, finish this half a chocolate and blueberry muffin that's got stuck in its casing. Or You've got to try just a sliver of chocolate fridge cake, it's Felicity Cloake's. It wasn't long before we were sharing spoons.
And come 10pm last night, as her Book Club crowd floated off home on a sugar and prosecco high, I was backstage snorting blackberry frangipane and mainlining a chocolate marble coffee-cream death star. The shame this morning was palpable but didn't stop me from slathering home-made “meadow jelly” on my toast. This afternoon I've hit the inevitable rock-bottom - scouring the cupboards for cooking chocolate and glacé cherries. And the dog seems desperate for a trip to the newsagents...
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