Quality and quantity this Christmas

THE ART OF EATING CHOCOLATE

IN the chocoholic calendar one day stands out above all rest and I think you know which it is.

I’m guessing you’ve been in training for it all year. Like everything else in life, you only get out what you put in and you can’t expect to get the chocolate sweats and bad skin without a bit of effort.

If you take the job seriously you will have steadily built up your chocolate intake in preparation, moving through Whispas and caramels on to super-size Galaxy bars in recent weeks as Christmas edged on to the horizon.

And I’m assuming you went for a two-for-one deal on tins of Roses or Quality Street because it was a bargain a month ago. Obviously in the shop you loudly suggested you’d be saving them till family arrived but as soon as you got home you said, “I suppose we could just open one?”

I’m thinking you started off all casual. “Oop! There’s my favourite. I’ll have one of those. Well, I’ll have two.” Then you were on to the others and you had to eat one of each so you could remember which ones you liked. At this point you began to throw the empty wrappers back into the tin in a feeble attempt to cover up the big gaps you were creating.

It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Christmas day will in many ways be like a real marathon, just without someone dressed as a banana taking over you five yards from the finish. You have to be ready because the last thing you want is hit the wall half way through your first selection box.

With training over, the real action begins and I like to get up early on the day and stretch.

Open your mouth as wide as you can and shake your lower jaw about to get it all loosened up.

Then you’re off with chocolate buttons, a Curly Wurly, a Flake and a chocolate Santa or two. Step up the pace as you move on to Celebrations, Heroes and those fancy Belgian chocolates that your auntie got you. Break off for turkey and sprouts but don’t overdo it. Conclude dinner with an After Eight at four o’clock.

By the time the chocolate log comes out you’ll have done the complete circuit a few more times and you may be flagging a bit.

Slap yourself about and take a chocolate off the tree. You’ve come this far and besides, all your family are watching.

With bedtime approaching you can tuck a Ferrero Rocher into your mouth and declare the race as won. Only then can you make your annual and heartfelt announcement that you’ll never be eating chocolate again. Not until Boxing Day anyway.

Next time . . . The Art of Starting Afresh.